


Inked Emotions

by fanfictioner22



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Art, Character Development, F/M, Friendship, Gangsters, Ino and Kiba are best bros, Insecurity, Light Angst, Relationship(s), Romance, Shin is a Good Brother, fashion - Freeform, fuck danzo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictioner22/pseuds/fanfictioner22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ino Yamanaka is nothing but stubborn, once she sets her mind on something she never backs down from the challenge. Though Sai just wants the fierce hurricane out of his shop for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It All Starts With A Bet

Ino flips her blonde ponytail in a graceful motion. “Back off forehead! _Sasuke-kun is mine_.”

“He’s _my_ boyfriend, pig,” Sakura hisses, like a snake ready to attack.

Blue eyes narrow mockingly and with a cold smile playing on ruby lips, Ino says, “Delusional. As if Sasuke-kun would want someone like _you_ when he could someone like _me.”_

Sakura knows she isn't as popular or as sexy as Ino, so her words pierce her heart painfully. However, Sakura refuses to cry and easily converts her hurt and lack of confidence into anger. The pink haired girl seethes in her place, ready to scratch her ex-best friend’s eyes out when an idea comes to her mind.

_This might work._

“I’ll give you Sasuke-kun.” Sakura smiles innocently, hopefully. “If you really love Sasuke-kun, why don’t you get his name tattooed, within a month?”

The blonde openly stares, her cold smile dropping swiftly. Hundreds of refusals are just at the tip off her tongue waiting to explode. _That pink haired-_

“If you get the tattoo,” Sakura says sweetly, aware of the internal struggle the blonde is having, “I’ll give Sasuke-kun to you. And if you don’t, you'll never bother us _again._ ”

Sakura raises a mocking brow. She knows that the blonde could never mar her skin even if it’s for Sasuke-kun (Inoichi-san might have a soft spot for his little baby doll but he’d raise hell over a tattoo or piercing) so the green eyed girl makes a last remark at the blonde. The last push that will force Ino out of her relationship.

“Or are you _a coward_ pig? Can’t even _show the love_ you claim so much?”

Ino’s eyes are steel and sharp when she answers, “Bring it forehead.”

Sakura’s confidence wavers for a second before a devilish thought crosses her mind. Ino will never get between her and Sasuke-kun again. “I know the perfect place for a tattoo. You either get it there or you lose it.”

The blonde makes a small tsk. “I'm in.” Soon Sasuke-kun, her prince charming and only love, will be hers and hers only.

* * *

 

The buxom blonde looks down on the scribbled address once more, expecting them to magically change under her intense gaze because _this_ can’t be _the place._

Ino stares at the tattoo shop with a critical eye. It’s a small rundown shop with brick walls decorated with graffiti. It’s surrounded with abandoned, scary houses that must be a hotspot for drug dealers and gangsters, not to mention it’s in the not-nice-crossing-whether-night-or-day kind a neighborhood. Every cell in her body tells her that it’s not worth it and she should just turn back and admit defeat.

However she is Ino Yamanaka, and Ino Yamanaka is no coward. She won’t back down from the challenge, especially if it comes from billboard-brow.

 _It’s for Sasuke-kun_ , a small part of her whispers while she glimpses around once more.

So the blonde squares her shoulders, lifts her chin, and walks inside the small shop as if she owns it. A little bell rings above her, notifying her entry and her confidence vanishes the moment the door closes. The place is eerie with fluorescent lights, leather chairs, and a marble counter. And also very chilly. Ino wonders who in their right mind would use the air conditioner in the middle of October.  Every inch of the walls is covered with designs, from grinning foxes and hissing snakes to crying scarecrows and bandaged canes and bloody fans. Ino stands there, not sure on what to do and contemplating if she can still run for it when a boy her age walks in from a door behind the counter.

The boy is extremely pale which sharply contrasts with his dark hair and attire. From what Ino could see, there are mixes of black tattoos going up his right arm disappearing under his sleeve. She can bet her new Louis Vuitton bag that there are more tats over his chest.

“How may I help you?” the boy asks politely, emotionlessly, unattached.  

Ino blinks as she takes him in a closer look. He is quite handsome actually (even with the blank impression) and his eyes are as black as his hair.  A gray headband is keeping his dark bangs out of his eyes and the little silver leaf in his ear gleams under the florescent light. He is taller than Ino (even when she’s wearing heels!) and looks to be quite fit under those black jeans and shirt.

Tall, pale, dark haired and cold (like Sasuke-kun!) just Ino’s type.

“I want a…” Ino finds herself lost to her own words because, not only the young boy reminded her Sasuke-kun so much but also she didn’t want a tattoo (her father would have her head) .However, if she backs down now she’ll never hear the end of it from Sakura, and she’d be losing her chance for Sasuke-kun. The blonde steels her resolve and is ready to continue when she catches the faint eye roll.

The boy tilts his head slightly. “A tattoo?” There is a mocking edge in his tone that makes Ino’s eye twitch.

“Yes genius, that’s why I’m _here in a tattoo shop._ ” She huffs, crossing her hands under her big chest and cocking her hip.

He slowly blinks, as if he’s seeing her completely for the first time, and takes in her appearance. The annoyance forgotten Ino lets her lips curl instinctively; she is wearing form fitting skinny jeans and her favorite purple sleeveless shirt with a generous cleavage that turns all boys to sputtering messes.

Ino is used to the attention from the opposite sex and she is yet to meet someone she couldn’t wrap around her finger. The blonde of course faced challenging boys, but with the right tactic they too would eventually fall for her.

Life is so much easier when everyone (except Sasuke-kun!) is bowing at your feet ready to satisfy your every need.

Is he the shy type? Cheeks flaming in bright red, stuttering his words while his brain fuming _error._ Or maybe he is a playboy with lusty eyes, mischievous smirk and confidence to sell.

 _Any minute now_ , the blonde thinks, _he’ll be under my spell._

However he is completely unaffected by her Queen Bitch attitude and simply says, “Leave.” The tattooist turns around leaving the blonde blinking owlishly.

_He… he ignored me! While I'm wearing my favorite shirt!_

“You… you don't even know what kind of tattoo I want!” the blonde says, confused, engraved.  

“I don't need to.” he cuts curtly. “I had my fill from people like you.”

_People like you?_

“Leave,” he says again, louder this time. “There is no place in my shop for those like you. And do not bother to come back.”

Ino keeps staring for a minute before exploding. “ _Excuse me_? If that’s how you treat customers, _no wonder_ this place is in the middle of _abandoned-ville_.” She spits out but the boy keeps ignoring her.

Ino turns her back and storms out of the shop like a hurricane.

* * *

 

For the past two days Ino couldn't get the mysterious boy out of her head. He was the first male to _ever_ reject her (she swooned _Shino_ who had _zero interest_ in girls.) and Ino seriously didn't know _why._ Even the cold and rude Sasuke-kun Ino admired so much gave her interested-lusty glances whenever she wore short skirts. And he also didn’t refuse any of her sexual advances in parties after the right amount of drinks; however when it came to dating Sasuke-kun kept pushing her away (but not Sakura.)

_Those like you._

No lust, no appreciation, no interest, not one straying glance. _Nothing._ Apart from annoyance tattoo boy just ignored her.

Ino is perfect. Blonde hair always neat, clothes always fashionable, make-up done in perfection. Ino is always the first to be invited in parties, she is everyone's friend, and she knows everyone. She can have anyone she desires, (except Sasuke-kun but that’s forehead’s fault!) the whole university lays under her Louboutin heels.

Not to forget she is tall, fit and curvaceous.

_Those like you._

So why, oh why, a tattooist boy in a rundown shop whose name Ino didn't even know, was causing her this much insecurity?

She chews her lip in frustration. How dare that boy make her feel insecure!

If this keeps up, Ino will lose her chance of having Sasuke-kun forever. The blonde fumes in her seat as she glares at the pink haired girl sitting two rows ahead of her. Sakura, that smart little bitch had to make _that shop_ obligatory.

_Those like you._

What did he mean?

Was he gay?

She charmed them before.

Was she not his type?

_Ino was everyone's type._

Did he have a girl?

That never stopped her before.

The blonde furrows her perfectly curved brows. She won't back down, it's not about Sasuke-kun or tattoos anymore. She, Ino Yamanaka, _was rejected_ , it hurt her pride and stirred her inner fire in such a way that boiled the blonde’s blood.

Poor boy, he’ll never know what hit him.

* * *

 

She returns two days later.

Ino storms back in, this time wearing short frilly skirt (that kind a worked on Sasuke) and a shirt that ends just under her purple bra. She is smiling confidently with her ruby lips and cocks her hip suggestively when the boy looks up.

There is no sign of emotion in his features. Not a trace of kindness or anger, sorrow or happiness, not even the barest hint of annoyance. Ino, looking at those black eyes fells like she is staring at a porcelain doll’s dead and glossy ones. Never has Ino ever seen someone look so… _devoid_ of emotions.

Ino shakes her head internally, breaking herself from his disturbing yet intriguing spell.  

 _He is the one who should be bewitched, not me!_ Ino fumes.

“I'm Yamanaka Ino and I want a tattoo.” She winks playfully, skillfully masking the mess of thoughts from the last five minutes. All her insecurities gone, she is ready to get the name of the love of her life on her skin.

The boy barely spares her a glance. “I already kicked you out once,” he stares at her through his long bangs, no headbands today but the silver leaf is still gleaming. “Are you that desperate for attention?”

A slight flush colors her cheeks but Ino keeps her smile, she is nothing but persistent. She walks with the grace of a feline, swaying her hips and long ponytail until she is in front of the register. Ino leans on the counter, careful to give an eyeful of cleavage, she purrs, “I really _need_ to get a tattoo, so how about you put those artistic hands on me and start on some _customary satisfaction?”_

The boy’s eyes narrow a fraction and Ino smirks.  Without breaking eye contact, the young man jumps over the counter in a fluid motion, landing inches in front of the shocked blonde. Ino’s nose is ghosting over his lips and she can feel his cool breath licking her face. The blonde’s cheeks warm suddenly at the sudden close proximity.

_Get a grip girl!_

She opens her mouth to speak but her words morph into a un-lady like shriek as the boy easily lifts her up bridal style. Even though Ino works out to keep her figure perfect, she is _nowhere near_ light enough to effortlessly lift as he did. The scent of ink, paper, and pine hits Ino’s nose and her head swims momentarily.

Ino is in a daze and doesn’t realize she is out of the shop until when the boy _lets her go._

The blonde hits the concrete with another undignified shriek and he just coolly stares down at her.

“You!” Ino snarls, easily falling back into the Bitch Queen Mode. “Who do you think you are? Dropping _me_ -”

“Sai.” He interrupts her rant casually.

The blonde bares her teeth, “Well _Sai_ ,-”

“I can see your panties.” Sai interrupts her again with minimal grace and terrible timing.

Ino flushes a deep red as she clumsily gets up, adjusting her mini skirt with a low growl. Sai isn’t exactly the first boy (or girl, depends on her mood) to ever see her panties, however, she finds it to be extremely embarrassing at the moment.

Ino Yamanaka is _embarrassed._

“Look blondie-”

_“Ino.”_

“- stop coming here. I won’t waste my artistic skills on your childish fantasies. I’m sure you want something girly like a fluffy bunny or a little cat, or worse something delusional like the name of your crush. I take my art seriously and have no tolerance for those who don’t take tattooing seriously.” Sai says, with a hint of cold anger and turns back inside, leaving a dumbfounded Ino on the sidewalk.

Mouth agape, the blonde keeps her stare fixed on the closed door of the shop which she was just thrown out. Her thoughts are mixed up, running around in endless circles, giving her a killer headache and micro level eye twitches. The blonde is mostly confused with fuming anger at the side; churning her stomach and making her see red.

Her inner turmoil is broken when she hears a throaty snicker. “Whatcha doin, sweetie? Wanna hang out with us?”

Ino whirls around ready to snap, when her words die and she sees two hooligans older than her, bleached hair spiked with too much hair gel and piercings all over their dirty faces, along with the disgusting smell of booze and tobacco burning her eyes, leering at her with lust filled eyes. Ino’s mind reels for a way out because they were the kind of people that spelled trouble from miles away.  The red haze of anger vapors swiftly leaving dread behind.

 _I should’ve driven here myself_ , Ino realizes. Internally beating Shika-baka for being considerate and not-lazy for once.

“Leave me be.” she growls with fake confidence. Ino prays for them to turn and leave, however, a tiny voice inside of her tell Ino that she isn’t that lucky.

The blond one smirks, making Ino wince. The purple suit clashes horribly with his yellow tie and Ino wants to just run away but her feet refuse to budge an inch.

“She seems feisty brother.” speaks up the blond whose hair looked like an upside-down broom.

 _Good to know I still have my sass._ Ino muses dryly.

The brother chuckled, reaching to grab Ino’s cream shoulders. “It’s more fun to tame them.”

The blonde girl recoils from the touch, her heart beat going crazy in her ears, she hisses the first comeback that pops into her mind, “I _said_ leave me be, broom hair and fashion disaster.”

The blonde bites her tongue. Her hopefully fearsome glare is fixed on the duo while she internally kicks herself for speaking before thinking. If those pissed looks she was having were anything to go by –

Suddenly, both of them have Ino cornered from the sides, the fear halts her thoughts. Ino feels the cold glass on her heated skin and shudders.

Voice cracking, Ino begs, “Stop!” Through her tear-clouded vision, she sees widened smirks. “Get off me!” she tries again, her voice stronger yet fear filled.

The brother, leans so close that the putrid smell of alcohol turns the girl’s stomach. “Don't be like that, sweetie. Promise I’ll be gentle,” he whispers excitedly into her ear. “Only for the first round though.”

It feels like forever before Ino can react. But even after then, it’s weak. Her whole body trembles, so slightly that it’s almost undetectable.

“Leave me alone!” she hollers louder, feeling adrenaline, fear and something else build up inside her spill through her words.

The blond delinquent laughs wholeheartedly. The sound takes the mannerism of a snake and curls in the core of her belly, squeezing the air out of Ino’s lungs.

 _This can’t be happening,_ Ino tries to reason, _this is just a nightmare._

She trembles when she feels greasy fingers on her thighs and waist, greedily exploring her smooth skin. Her blood flows like ice in her veins as Ino kicks desperately one of them over the knee, and thrusts her elbow hard into the ribs of another. One of them hisses in pain while the other curses loudly, but Ino can’t tell which is which through her teary eyes.

Ino takes a deep breath to scream for help, from her chief police father, from Sasuke-kun, from Shika-baka, _from anyone_ , when her mouth is covered by a meaty hand.

“Oi sweetie, no need to disturb the neighbors.”

Terrified tears roll down Ino’s cheeks one after another as she blindly struggles for freedom. Just when she feels a hand slide under her skirt, Ino falls backwards over something hard, as whatever she was pushed against suddenly disappears.

“When a lady says no, she means it. She is neither playing hard to get nor trying to provoke you by wearing scandalous outfits.”

There is tension Ino’s shoulders and disbelief in her teary eyes as she gazes up to meet charcoal black eyes on a deadpan face. The owner of the bland tone is no one but Sai, the rude and confusing tattooist whose been driving Ino mad for the last three days. However, never in her life Ino had been so happy so see him.

“Back off mate,” the brother threatens. “Found her first.”

“Did you now?” The edge of the question sends a chill straight up Ino’s spine. Sai’s arm sneaks around her middle in an iron grip and pulls her closer. The blonde can feel the taunt muscles and cold skin, through the thin material of Sai’s shirt.

 _Emotionless_. Ino can’t believe that she used that word to describe the young man holding her rib rackingly close to his chest. Sai apparently is a master on conveying his feelings without showing a hint of them on his chiseled features, because Ino can tell the disgust and annoyance from the aura Sai emits.

“You shouldn’t challenge my bro, dude. You’d drop dead.” Snaps the broom hair, glaring daggers at Sai who easily towers over them both.

Sai only lets out a controlled breath similar to a sigh. “If you value your lowly lives, disappear at once.”

The words themselves are very threatening, however, the young man delivers them with so much boredom that, Ino thinks he’s about to yawn.

She didn’t feel threatened from the young man, though; she didn’t also want to cross roads with him. Sai exudes raw confidence, as if there isn’t anyone or anything in the world he couldn’t beat into submission.

Ino shivers again, more from the chilly afternoon than the situation she ended herself in. Sai’s eyes stray at her shivering form, then returns to the hoodlums who had, in one point in time, stepped away from Ino’s personal space.

 _Because of him_ , she realizes morbidly, _is the aura this man radiates._

For the blonde, Sai is definitely the lesser of the two evils.

The attackers share a single look and Ino can almost _see_ how they think they can win because they have the advantage in numbers.

_Are they blind or complete cretins!_

Apparently both. The fashion disaster takes out a pocket knife with a smirk while broom head breaks the half empty wine bottle Ino didn’t notice, and waves the sharpened end threateningly.

Ino turns her panicked eyes up. She is scared and a bit guilty that Sai will be hurt to because she didn’t listen to him when he said not to come back. The young man returns her gaze with calm eyes as if telling her it’s okay. If he is confident he can take care of this mess, Ino decides to gamble and believe he can. And suddenly the blonde girl feels at ease.

Sai’s eyes are still locked with her when he talks, “I did warn you both.”

He is swift as he whips out a Glock G30S, the military model, and casually points the gun at the shocked duo. It takes them a full minute of staring incredulously before it kicks in that _the guy has a gun,_ and sprint off as if hell hounds were close at their heels.

A brief eye roll and a not-so-gentle-tug from Sai, Ino finds herself back inside the rundown tattoo shop. The blonde girl’s back is still pressed against his cold chest with one muscled arm curled around her middle and a military issued gun on his other hand.

Lesser of the two evils?

Ino helplessly snorts at the irony of her words.

Out of the frying pan into the fire.


	2. Customer Satisfaction

Sai’s fingers twitch for the nearest brush when he sees the person standing awkwardly and very out of place in his little shop. As an artist, Sai likes to paint and create with black ink the most. However, he does enjoys the play of colors, depending on how well they complement or contrast each other. 

It all ends on how captivated he is.

The young man’s face is expressionless as he marvels the clashing colors in front of him. Strangely, the sun, instead of accenting the hair to a bright neon yellow color, drowns in the sea of hair and turns into an interesting silvery shade.

There is something about the way the light playing off the long silky blonde hair that inspires Sai to just capture the moment and render it eternal.

Next, his eyes wander to her face. A small nose, plump lips, high cheek bones, large baby blue eyes on a heart shaped face. Aesthetically, she is pleasant to look at with an intriguing play on pastel colors; silvery blonde hair, baby blue eyes, cherry lips, dusty pink skin and purple clothes.   

The telltale attraction is there, slowly rooting itself in Sai’s thoughts, under the disguise of artistic appreciation.

Then, his eyes take her in completely and his appreciation instantly fades away. He sees the deep cleavage showing off her massive assets, skillfully done makeup, a designer bag, too tight jeans that do nothing to hid her legs and heels that have more zeroes on their price tag than a small family’s monthly income.

Rich, spoiled, daddy’s girl with a killer body.

Sai doesn’t regret it one bit when he kicks her out of his shop.

Later that night, the tattooist sits in front of the empty canvas in his studio apartment and tries to recall the fascinating mash off colors that captivated his inner artist. With paint smeared fingers, Sai’s digits begin to dance over the white canvas, relying on his memory, talent and imagination. Colors swirl and mixed; however, none are remotely  _ satisfying. _

Frustrating gripping his insides, Sai picks another empty canvas, closes his eyes and allows himself to become lost in his painting. His hands move over the white surface as he tries to capture some of the effortless elegance. He stops over thinking about the infuriating young girl and just  _ feels _ the colors and paints with them.

This one turns better than the previous one; however, it still nags Sai that this isn’t what he wanted from the color schemes.

Six  ruined unsatisfying canvases later, Sai gives up on catching a glimpse of his earlier inspiration and decides to sleep it off.

Sighing once again, Sai set down his brush with more force than usual and made his way to the window of his studio. He leans his forehead against the cold glass as he stares at the night overtaking the landscape.

He dreams of colorful threads.

* * *

He’s surprised yet secretly satisfied when the blonde girl storms in his shop two days later.

Her long blonde hair is up in a ponytail like before and baby blue eyes burn with pure determination as she catwalks inside. She is wearing a frilly skirt the color of dusk and shirt too short to be considered, well,  _ a shirt _ . However, its color is  _ black _ which shocks the young man for a second.

She looks  _ charming _ in black.

His fingers twitch again, and Sai is suddenly filled with the desire of covering her with more  _ black.  _ The tattooist wants the dark colors to absorb her pale hair and light colored eyes.

This train of thoughts scare the young man, and further steels his resolve that they – he mostly – must stay away from each other. It’s not even about tattoos anymore.

She is both a distraction and inspiration if the dozens of illustrations hanging in his studio are anything to go by.

The pastel goddess – Ino – shamelessly flirts with him, and Sai can feel his resolve steadily crack. On a whim, he jumps over the counter and picks her up. A natural floral scent tickles Sai’s nose as he carries the blonde outside.

Flowers. Indeed, the best and perhaps only scent that can fit the colorful girl.

Sai firmly believes that she won’t attempt to come back anymore and so forces himself to let go of the intriguing colors. However, the sweet smell of flowers still lingers, and taunts the young man. The delicate scent of lily of the valley to the heady aroma of wisteria, the soothing jasmine and exotic magnolia. Like a flower haven, just as colorful as she is.

Most of them aren’t native and have different blooming seasons, so she either is an outstanding gardener or passes an immense amount of time around flowers for them to leave a permanent smell.

His artistic side takes control and he sees Ino in the middle of a breathtaking flower field, under the bright sun with only soft petals to cover her figure. He rather enjoys the mental picture when Sai’s keen ears pick up a shuffle right outside the door. His gaze strays for a second and instantly double takes.

The blonde,  _ Ino  _ he reminds himself, is backed against the door with two scums looming above her, leering and  _ touching. _

How dare they _defile_ _her_ before he could.

Only Sai can dull her pastel colors and drown her in black.

Sai’s whole body fuels with cold anger and he is out with a gun before any sort of rational thought could stop him. The delinquents flee instantly, though they stay long enough for Sai to memorize their faces.

He’ll deal with them later.

Right now, Sai is trying to control his temper and failing with the blonde pressed tight against his chest. The flower scent intensifies and her skin is soft and warm under his cold fingers.

The dark instincts Sai believed to have gotten under control long ago easily slips through the chains binding them. Ino also tests his limits with her teary eyes and shaking lips.

Like a rabbit before a wolf, she trembles and her fear satisfies the inner beast of the dark haired man.

She shouldn’t have returned to the beast’s den.

* * *

Ino twists in his grasp until she is face to face with the young man and freezes.

Almighty God, the beauty you bless us with.

Shaped brows slightly knitted together, thinned lips, a strong clenched jaw, and long eyelashes framing charcoal eyes burning with cold fire. 

His eyes are blades and his hair is the night.

His shape is frightening yet beautiful. 

Ino isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s been staring too long to be considered polite.

There is tension between the duo. It’s as if a high voltage electrical current has suddenly diverted through the little shop. It crackled, sizzled and threatened to leave them both singed.

“Sai?” The name unintentionally comes out like a low whimper and dark eyes narrow, flashing in an emotion Ino is all too familiar with.

Lust.

His large hands resting on Ino's waist slide down to cup her butt and lift her up in a single fluid motion. Ino yelps in surprise and her long legs instinctively wraps around the tattooist's middle to balance herself. His body is cold under her hands clasped on his shoulders for balance. Ino absentmindedly wonders if his lips would be cold too.

He easily carries her over to the marble counter.

“Stubborn.” He whispers the strained words right above her sensitive neck. His breath is chilly and makes her shiver slightly. “I told you not to come here for a reason.”

And before Ino could protest or react at all, Sai crushes his lips to hers.

And just how she imagined, his lips are cold against her own. However they are very skillful at delivering steaming passion.

This kiss is aggressive and demanding so that Ino feels as if it's her first kiss. She clumsily tries to respond, not sure why she is responding at all. The mysterious man had a gun seconds ago, Ino should push and leave the obviously dangerous Sai. But the way he kissed made the blonde curled her toes and made her sigh in content. Ino has the sudden feel that kissing Sai is a natural thing and  _ why stop? _

“Is this what you came back for?” murmurs the young man, when his lips retreat and gives them a chance to breathe. 

Ino's head is foggy and she had to rephrase the question in her mind a few times to get the meaning.

“No!” she exclaims loudly, baring her teeth and narrowing her eyes. Yes, this is more like her, and not the one that gets all mushy just from  _ one kiss. _

Sai's black eyes are impassive as he tilts his head to the side. “Oh really? If it's so why is your body so…” Sai lets his words trail off, swiftly sliding his fingers under Ino's short shirt and cups her breasts. Ino’s protest dies in her throat as she arches her back instantly and bites her tongue to swallow the needy moan. 

How? How can this boy find her every single sensitive spot right in his first try? Ino dated man that couldn't even  _ get her excited _ after a month long relationship.

The boy snorts softly at Ino. “So prone to respond.” He shakes his head and dives onto her cleavage.

Ino's fingers shoot up and wind themselves in his hair. The sensation is so great that Ino can swear she sees stars as her pale digits curl around the silky strands. Sai growls under the long nails scraping his skull and  if possible, his tongue gets even greedier. 

_ So good _ . Ino feels like her whole body is curling with pleasure. Hazily, she opens her glazed eyes to see Sai, black hair disheveled and gaze hungry like a predator;s. That one look, sends jolts Ino’s insides and she feels more warmth pool in her lower half. The blonde have never meet man that looks at her like she is prey and the idea of being hunted, surprisingly excites the girl.

In her pleasure hazed mind, Ino hears ripping and then cold lips on her heated flesh.

Blue eyes shot open – when did she close them? – and there, on the floor Ino sees her tank top and bra, cleanly ripped in two to free her bosom. 

She glares at the colorful fabric of her bra and shifts her glare to the young man. Slowly, as if the words were difficult to pronounce, Ino says, “I liked that bra.  _ A lot _ .”

Sai blink and his eyes look down at the ripped bra then up at the seething blonde. He can't help the slight twitch in his lips but manages to hold his laugh in.

“I'll buy you a new one,” Sai promises, amusement seeping at his tone. 

The blonde scowls harder, so to redirect her mind, Sai ascends on Ino's pale skin and skillfully tastes her flesh.

Ino's head falls back a second time and this time she can't hold her moans in. One after another, the greedy sound spills from her lips and her cheeks turn redder with shame. 

_ This isn't me, _ she realizes _. I never get so worked up from a boy that's not Sasuke-kun. _

The name brings a single moment of clarity but instantly vanishes when Sai's cold lips enclose around her pink bundles of nerve. As if possible, Ino arches her back further and using her hands intertwined in his hair to pull him closer towards her aching chest.

Sinful. What Sai’s tongue does is downright sinful.

The black haired man complies with her wordless request and grasps her hips and smashes his body to hers. It’s exactly what they both need as Ino lets out content huff and Sai growls in appreciation.

Slowly, lips made of ice travel up, leaving snowflake like kisses behind. The aggressive aura both had moments ago is gone and Ino gets her act together. Right now, they are face to face and Ino blurts without thinking, “No guy should have eyelashes like that.”

Sai blinks, once then twice. In his lust darkened eyes, Ino catches the tiniest bit of amusement before it’s gone. He huffs a dry laugh and untangles himself from the blonde girl, forcefully keeping his eyes away from her.

“Stay,” he orders. The blonde stiffens under the command and Sai feels like hitting himself. “Wait here,” he adds with a gentler tone and the tattooist is pleased with himself when she relaxes.

_ What am I doing?  _ Sai thinks while searching for a shirt for the half-naked blonde sitting on his marble counter. 

_ I kick her out, save her from scums who are about to rape her, then I grope her inappropriately myself, rip a bra she apparently liked a lot and now I'm looking for a substitute shirt. _

The boy sighs silently and squishes down the voice saying that she wasn’t wearing much to begin with.

Sai finally finds a sleeveless black shirt in one of his drawers, short and modest enough to fit the blonde. He returns to see that Ino didn’t move an inch, just like he told her to, though her delicate arms are covering her generous chest.

There is another wave of amusement playing in his eyes when he hands her the black clothing. The blonde nods as a thanks and swiftly wears the shirt. Sai cringes at her swift movements,  _ she has every right, I did molest her. _

Ino intently watches Sai expression darken. It’s not the darkness brought by loss or…of anger. Another feeling she can’t really name. The blonde, intent to gain back her footing, says, “Thanks inkman, I’ll try to ignore how this shirt _clashes_ _horribly_ with my skirt until I go home.”

“Be grateful beautiful.” The compliment easily slips from Sai’s lips, startling both of them.

The dark haired man clears his throat and tentatively offers, “I’ll give you a ride home. No matter the hour this place is never safe, especially for girls with skimpy clothing.”

“Skimpy?” Ino retorts, eyes widening a second before narrowing. “Let me inform you that these are the  _ latest fashion _ and also that you owe me a bra and a shirt.”

Sai, ignores the jab with ease and dangles a set of keys in front of her face as a silent peace offering. The curvy girl hops down the counter and the tattooist averts his eyes from the flexing legs.

As to regain some of her cool, Ino demands with her hands on her hips, “I only ride in expensive cars.” Cold indifference colors her tone. “I do have a reputation to hold.”

The tattooist rather enjoys the blonde’s cocky behavior, mostly because she is in his slightly big shirt. “Don't worry,” he says. “I only ride the latest model.”

Disbelief marring her pretty features – Sai also avoids looking at her swollen lips, even if it strokes his manly pride – Ino follows the dark haired man through the metal door behind the counter. As Ino expected, the door leads to a studio with a black leather chair – like the ones in a dentist’s office – and several sharp needles and more tattoo samples on the walls. 

Sai keeps his pace to another door right across the leather chair, and Ino finds herself in the back of the shop. Her curious gaze instantly zeros on the sleek black motorcycle casually parked and comically looking out of place.

Of course Sai would ride a black Ducati with some personalized touches – Ino knows because Kiba has the same damn thing and her experienced eyes could pick up the subtle differences.

Like the claret red vines crawling around the lights, the leaner bars and extra saddlebags to the sides.

“The engine looks…” Ino trails of, pouting her ruby lips.

“It’s composed from various parts. I like to work on her when I have the time and parts.” Sounding surprised that Ino could catch it, Sai extends a helmet to the blonde girl. “I don’t usually have guests so we’ll have to do with what we have.”

Ino, knits her brows as she takes the safety measure, and then she sees that the bike had only one seat. It seemed that the bike had another seat once but Sai probably removed it for more supply space. Throwing a skeptical look at the only seat, albeit large and could accommodate both, if Ino basically flushed her body against Sai’s board back.

Showing down her protests, Ino wears the helmet and holds the extended hand before she can change her mind. She ignores her heart picking up pace and her churning stomach, focuses on the roar of the engine and wind whipping her hair.

The blonde stops Sai one block away from her house. Her legs feel a bit wobbly but she doesn’t falter.

“For the last time, I’ll warn you.” Sai’s voice is stern enough to beat any upcoming arguments. “Don't come to the shop, I might not be able to save you next time.”

Ino scowls as she gives the helmet back to the tattooist. Hooking her index inside the collar of her borrowed clothing, she prompts, “No can do, inkman, I'm sure your shirt would like to get back to his owner.”

“Perhaps my shirt is very content on covering your bare chest.” Sai counters and he enjoys the twitching blue eye.  

Never one to be denied – heaven forbid, someone would dare to cross road with her – Ino says, “If I can’t come, you will. I spend most of my time in Konoha University campus.”

With a playful wink, she turns and hums along the way to her apartment. Ino is satisfied with having upped the tattooist once, and the suffering-yielding sigh she hears is just the icing on the cake.

* * *

Though the curvy girl expected inkman to drop by at her campus, she didn’t expect him to show up only two days later. Ino didn’t even have had the time to wash Sai’s shirt and she certainly didn’t have the said article with her.

Ino is busy staring at Sai’s moving lips and remember exactly how they clouded her mind, and left cold yet burning marks on her skin. So she completely misses what the dark haired man said.

The young man is staring at her expectantly and Ino feels the blood faintly color her cheek. “Can you repeat that?”

“Would you like to have lunch?” Sai repeats once more, faint hope edges in his voice. Almost inaudible, had Ino not learned to read human speech and body since she was six.  

Ino’s heart misses a beat and she lies through her teeth. “I've already eaten.”

The young man hums and glances away. Ino licks her lips as she tries to reign in her unstable emotions. She has many questions, about the gun and about his stern refusal and the heavy make out she very much enjoyed. The blonde wants to have a lunch with the dark haired man and learn more and solve the mystery that is Sai. However her rational side recognizes the tattooist as dangerous and not to be messed with.

The blonde’s stomach growls.

Ino feels even the tips of her ears turn cherry red. 

“I understand.” Sai says monotonously. “You have every right to be afraid of me, and it’s also sensible for you to not want to be in my presence.”

There is a hollow detachment in the tattooist tone that clenches Ino’s chest in a uncomfortable manner. The blonde, squishing down her rational voice, declares, “I want steak with ridiculously overpriced red wine. You're paying and you better have a car.”

The tenseness melts from Sai’s shoulders as he responds, “Deal.” A small yet mischievous smirk appears. “And sorry but you'll have to ride on my bike again. If not you can always take the bus.”

Ino glares holes with her narrowed baby blue eyes. “You invite me to dinner and then expect me to walk? Men, chivalry must really be dead.”

Sai lets out a small, low chuckle that hits Ino’s nerves like an electric current. The blonde hates that she can be so easily affected by a guy. Sai gives Ino a head guard and extended his hand to the blonde. “Coming?”

“The wind will make a mess of my hair.” She whines half-heartedly.

The dark haired man points out, “That’s why I gave you a head guard.”

“Great.” Ino huffs, rolling her eyes. “Not only messed but also flattened hair. You are doing this on purpose.”

“Perhaps,” Sai says cryptically. 

The tattooist takes Ino to an above average diner, much to the blonde’s complains, which falls instantly silent at the first bite of steak. Sai hides his victorious smirk behind his wine glass. 

“Will you give me a tattoo now?” Ino hopefully asks. She hadn’t forgotten her original motive, although strayed a bit, her objective is still Sasuke-kun.

“No,” Sai responds automatically. A tad too fast for Ino’s taste.

Blue eyes narrow as the blonde tilts her head, causing her long fringe to slide and stare at Sai with both eyes. “I’ll pester till you do. I’m told that I'm very good at giving hell.”

A strange emotion flickers in his black eyes so fast that Ino thinks she might have imagined it. 

“I'm sure you're capable of such, Ino,” Sai muses.

Ino takes a huge gulp of her own wine, trying to ignore the effects of her name in Sai’s lips.  “I have no intention to give up.”  Ino declares, tilting her chin stubbornly. 

“I was afraid of that.”

* * *

Sai is always wistful when he finishes a piece. Of course there is the feeling of accomplishment; however, the bitterness always follows close behind.

Perhaps it the void of having the project he worked very hard, completed and that it doesn’t need his attention anymore. Sai has absolutely no business with a finished piece and perhaps that loss of commitment is what causes the wistfulness.

However, drawing Ino, completing an artwork of hers – is anything but bitter. Sai can’t get enough. The curve of her jaw, her cascading hair, the shape of her eyes, the curved built, tempting lips… no matter how many times he draws or paints the same lines over and over, Sai can’t be satisfied and instantly starts again – with a diverse angle, another style, different expression.  A stubborn glint, a challenging grin, confident air, seductive pose…

It quickly becomes a pleasant pastime for the dark haired young man, against his rational side hissing to stay away from her.

* * *

Sai stares down at the screen of his phone as if the intensity of his gaze would magically light it up with his brother’s name flashing irritably. However, the screen keeps its dark state with no news about Shin’s so called easy task. 

Had it been anything else Sai wouldn’t have cared, Shin is an adult – at least he pretends he is – and presumably can take care himself. But his unrefined brother is at a mission, given from  _ him _ nonetheless, and even if Sai washed his hands off from the organization, he knew how split second carelessness or a single misinformation can turn things for the worse.

The tattooist is in no way a mother hen – that’s Shin – but no cringingly loud voice messages, texts full of typos or even an annoying tweet. So Sai feels it adequate to feel just a tiny bit of worry, it had been almost two weeks now. 

The lack of anything about his current state, grates Sai’s nerves and he almost snarls with his pent up frustration at the new comer into the shop.

A russet colored oversized hoodie manages to conceal her curves along with golden blonde hair, although the fitted, designer sweatpants gave away her gender easily. A Chinese takeout dangled from tangerine painted nails and an inviting smirk graced her peach hued lips.

“I brought a peace offering.” Ino says, presenting the hot food with a mock bow.

Sai stares carefully at the delicious smelling take out and Ino fishes another package from inside her hoodie. “And this is your shirt; I personally ironed it by the way. You may feel honored.”

The moment Sai takes the shirt, Ino bounces away to the small table sandwiched between the leather chairs. The blonde takes of the hood covering her head and a simple French braid falls to her chest. 

“You coming or not?” Ino asks, chopsticks already in her delicate hands. “The fates of your fried shrimps are at my mercy and I can’t promise they’ll wait for you.”

The dark haired young man sighs. He’s sighing awful a lot lately and the reason is sitting cross legged across from him eating stir-fried noodles. He sits with his own box (beef chow fun) and lets the smell of hot food cloud his strained emotions. The whirlpool of worry, annoyance, anxiety and irritation that had him trapped, eased his sharp clutches and Sai feels his tense shoulders relax slightly.

“You should get your ears checked,” the tattooist says calmly after a peaceful minute. “I remember clearly telling that you should not return here. Seeing that I've done my part means the problem resides in you.”  

Her grin melds into an almost innocent smile. Almost. “Oh really? It must have slipped my mind.” At the deadpan stare she gets, Ino laughs, a merry peal of rich amusement. It’s contagious and Sai feels the corner of his lips twitch. He wants to accompany her laughter but manages reign into his silly emotions.

“I had to give your shirt back, I never keep something a boy gives me. And also I had to repay for the diner thing. I can’t believe you took me to a  _ diner.” _

“You should feel ashamed to made me drink that piss that they so called wine.” Ino sniffs in disgust at the memory. Although the stake was good – excellent even – the red wine was better left unmentioned. 

The blonde cringles her little nose and he almost snorts.  _ Rich girls _ . 

Examining the take out with way too much interest, the dark haired man says, “This doesn’t look five star materials, Ino.”

Sai quirks a brow, silently mocking her efforts. Ino gives up with a brief eye roll and tries a different strategy.  

“Okay, it was the closest place and I didn’t and anything to get cold.” Ino confesses and stuffs more of her noodles into her mouth. Maybe with her mouth full she won’t admit another embarrassing thing.

Time passes swiftly, and Sai learns that Ino can outtalk any other living being on earth. From classes to her annoying neighbor, her new nail polish, and the last book she read, Ino blabbers about everything. Strangely, Sai finds himself listening attentively instead of letting the conversation pass through him. 

She neither brings up her tattoo request nor does she asks about the gun.


	3. Alcohol Is Never The Answer

They’re an odd group, Ino, Shikamaru,Chouji and himself, but Kiba wouldn’t have it any other way. Although they have their differences, the four have had a deep bond since _forever,_ and if anyone messes with one of them. they’ll get the meaning of hell on earth.

They’ve inseparable since kindergarten until the end of high school. While Kiba didn’t have any interest in college, let alone in school in general, he still didn’t want to disappoint his mother. So after a long winded argument, Kiba made a deal with Tsume. If he could finish mechanics, she’d let him try for pro-bikers.

Unsurprisingly, Chouji decided to follow his father’s footsteps as a police officer while Shikamaru went into law school – the pineapple strangely fit into the boring courtrooms – and Ino had her childhood wish granted, managing to enter into fashion designing.

In Kiba's book, Ino is one of the coolest girls around. (Not only because she always carries threats for Akamaru. That’s just another level of awesomeness of hers.) 

Ino knows what she wants and doesn’t shy away from a challenge. Guts and a hot body on high heels, though Kiba never looks at her that way. (He prefers the quiet type, who Kiba can coerce out of their shell.) Ino might be a total babe, but she is, and always will be a friend.

They did kinda grow up together, hanging out in the police station along with Shikamaru and Chouji. So there aren’t any sappy romantic thoughts, because _eww,_ she is like a sister. 

Some may say that the blonde is nothing but a whore with too much lipstick and cleavage, but they are _so fucking wrong_ that Kiba wants to holler and kick. Kiba knows Ino. He knows that she'd never sleep with a guy that she isn't dating and he also knows that she swats any advantages from her flirts until they cleanly breakup with their girlfriends. 

Ino has her own sense of pride. Just because _she likes to flirt_ , doesn't fucking mean she'd spread her legs _to anyone_ who happens to pass by.

So whenever Kiba hears some jackass bad mouth her, he feels obligated to rearrange their shitty faces for free. (He saw _Chouji_ punch a teenager _through a wooden door_ once and it was _awesome!)_ She is his impromptu sis after all. (Much better than Hana, because Ino can give him a run for his money when it comes to videogames. Especially Mortal Kombat, the blonde is fucking _savage.)_  

Kiba doesn’t mind when Naruto joins their little gang. The hyperactive blond is a nice change of pace from the kind glutton Chouji and lazy smartass Shika. The fact that Naruto also likes heavy metal music and booze is a nice plus. What made the energetic duo bro-bond the most was the drunken decision to get tattoos. Naruto declared that they were too manly to have friendship bracelets, and tats were also super _cool._ (Though Kiba would never admit in a thousand years that he cried when he got his red triangle tats – so did Naruto with his whiskers, like a newborn if he may add.) 

Naruto is a cool dude, but when he forcefully drags his childhood friend Sasuke to their get together two years ago, _shit hits the fan._

Kiba Inuzuka can't see the appeal of Sasuke Fucking Uchiha. He always acts as if he's above fucking else with that eternal scowl and cold glare. The moment Kiba saw him and that ridiculous hair; he knew that he'd never get along with the bastard. (He isn’t sure how Naruto even fucking tolerates him, let alone _be friends_.)

He'd also seen Ino's eyes glint with the thrill of fresh prey and Kiba steeled his nerves and the suffering groan that tried to follow. Kiba _knew_ that glint. If Ino managed to go permanent with the sneering statue, he'll make an effort to _at least_ seem to be tolerating the bastard. The blonde would have his balls otherwise.

Because Kiba knew Ino since they were in their diapers, he is the first to notice the subtle change in her. He expected Shikamaru to comment on it but the genius probably deemed it too troublesome.

“Yo Blondie!” Kiba greets Ino with a two finger salute.

Ino raises her head from the fashion magazine she’d been reading. “Oh, it’s just dog boy. Are you here for a bone?”

Kiba lets the snarky remark pass by; he had more than enough of bickering with Ino to know she had no bite behind her words.  He flops down the uncomfortable cafeteria chair.

“We both know that the only bone worth picking here is my boner. ” He wiggles his eyebrows and then winks at the girl.

Ino makes a face. “Disgusting. How do you even get laid with those awful pickup lines?”

“It’s all part of the charm of Inuzuka style.”

The blonde groans and drags her chair to the left, away from the grinning boy. “I'm reading Kiba,” Ino stresses, gesturing to the open magazine in front of her.

Kiba rolls his eyes as he teases, “I didn’t know you could read _upside down_ , Ino.”

The blonde’s brow twitches slightly at being caught and hastily turns the magazine. Her glare hits Kiba full force, and her usually playful blue eyes are hard cold stones. “I didn’t know _you could notice_ anything that didn’t have either boobs or an engine.”

Her words are harsher than usual and it confirms Kiba’s suspicions that something is up with her best female friend. “You're so mean, and here I had something for ya.”

Eager to please the blonde, Kiba slides the expansive box of little chocolates. Ino’s guard lowers at the sight of her favorite brand.Feeling a fond smile tugging her lips, she almost snitches the box and her smile turns into a frown when she peers inside.

“…This box is half empty Kiba.”

“Half the calories, babe,” Kiba points outs in a lighthearted amusement.

Kiba thinks that he might have deserved the kick to the shin that follows his stupid words.

“So, where is Sakura?”

Ino gives him a look. “I haven’t seen her since that Useful Plants 101 class that we share. Though if I remember correctly, she should have Anatomy class in the morning and Hospital Policies in the afternoon. Becoming a doctor isn’t easy.”

Ino takes one of the cherry chocolates and she eats three before she realizes. Now that he’s offered a sacrifice to appease the blonde, Kiba strikes for his real intention.

“Speaking of Sakura, another week and your little bet with Sakura is off,” Kiba says absentmindedly, missing the blonde still in her place. “I thought you’d be running around in frenzy.”

“Things got complicated,” Ino grumbles and Kiba can pick something different in her tone. Smirk falling off, the Inuzuka gets up and turns his chair around, and sits with his folded arms resting on the top rail.

“Tell me.”

And Ino does. Once she starts she can’t stop, the words spill from her lips one after another.

“I don’t understand! He’s hot one moment and cold in another, and I can never guess what he has in that demented mind of his!” Ino huffs, and bites another chocolate. The dense cherry flavor calms her nerves a bit.

Kiba raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hakuna your tatas, Ino, I'm not following you.”

The blonde takes in a shaky breath. “Okay, I met this tattooist and he totally ignored _me_.  When I tried again two days later he _kicked me out_ of his shop. And then he swooped in to save me from two half-drunk guys like a hero wearing too much black.” Ino purposely lets off the gun part from her story. She isn’t sure and she thinks she might have imagined that part.

Kiba cracks his knuckles and his brown eyes darken, he growls, “Give me the names of those bastards.”  It wasn’t the first time when guys couldn’t understand the _fucking no_ and get more _persuasive._  Kiba broke his fair share of noses as did Chouji and Shika.

Ino waves her hand in the air as she nibbles on one of the chocolates. “I didn’t have to time to interview them Kiba. Anyway, we made out and he gave me a ride back home – he has a Ducati by the way. Afterwards he took me out for lunch and then I brought Chinese to his shop.”

Kiba nods. “Okay, what’s the problem here?”

Ino taps her long fingernails on the table and the ominous rhythm puts Kiba on edge. “The problem is that I know _exactly_ nothing about him. Nothing, not even a last name! We spent every day for the last two weeks and he never spoke about himself once and he’s _damn good_ at redirecting the conversation when I did.” She fumes, gobbling down two chocolates at once.

“You're pissed because he’s a bit secretive?” the Inuzuka asks, incredulity seeping into his tone.

Ino whips her head and the long ponytail hits the unexpected Kiba. “It’s more than that!” Kiba swears that he sees lightning crackle in her blue eyes. “He took me out for shopping and I dragged him to the nearest Victoria Secrets. I needed a new bra and he was willing to pay for it. I thought he’d be flustered and out of place but _no_ he was a perfect gentleman. Since that day he hasn’t made a single advance!”

“How’s that a bad thing?” Kiba says, scratching his chin. This guy seems to treat Ino respectfully – which Ino really deserves it – and not as banging material. He can’t really see the problem or why Ino would be so angry over it. “You always complain how guys first look at your chest then your face. Shouldn’t you be happy that you found another male immune to your bonkers?”

Kiba knew how much Ino hurt inside and how she always hid it behind snarky remarks and flipping ponytail. She likes to dress fashionable and likes to flirt occasionally and because of them, the blonde is often labeled as a whore.  Ino would often joke that she didn’t need more males, as she already had her trio of boys, but the Inuzuka suspected she wanted something more sometimes.

And the blonde thinks that something could be the Uchiha.

“I can’t find a single thing to blame him!” Ino whines, breaking Kiba out of his thoughts. Her head falls into her hands, long fingers splayed over her pale face. “At first all I could think was getting the damn tattoo and be done with it, but day by day, I started to drop by because I seriously enjoyed his company. He’s throwing me out of loop and I’m _letting_ him, I should be thinking about Sasuke and, and…”

“And this pisses you of.” Kiba’s tone is carefully neutral as he swings his arm around Ino’s shoulders. Instantly, the blonde turns and buries her nose into the croak of Kiba’s neck while she grumbles something that suspiciously sounds like German curses.

“He’s confusing as hell Kiba. He listens to my babbling without getting bored, he looks at my eyes and I know he sees me, _Ino,”_ she grudgingly confesses. “He makes me question my resolve.”

As Kiba plays with Ino’s hair, he still fails to see the problem here. Perhaps, it’s because he is a male and he shouldn’t ever attempt to understand girls; however, if this random guy can really help Ino get over the asshole Uchiha, Kiba can root for him wholeheartedly.

“Well, I don’t know who he is but I’ll support whatever decision you make.” The Inuzuka yanks her long hair playfully and Ino rams her elbow between his ribs. Kiba groans, feral smirk settling back into his face. He knows the right thing to say to make Ino, Ino again.

“You're the _wurst_ , abusing me like that.”

Kiba barely dodges the arching leather bag and he hollers a laugh when Ino hisses swear words for her miss.

She shrieks, “Not the _wurst_ puns!”

“You need to get wasted babe,” Kiba says getting to his feet and dragging the fuming blonde with him. When in doubt, _alcohol._ “And invite this guy too. We can always get him drunk out of his ass and let him spill the beans.”

Ino grabs her purse, the magazine forgotten on the table. “I’ll text the guys then.”

Kiba laughs, when he sees Ino back to her old self. She is Ino, there isn’t a human being that can stop her or keep up with her.

* * *

 

The Inuzuka ducks his head and Ino holds herself. She knows what –

“And then, I said the _wurst_ is yet to come.” As if it’s the funniest thing ever, Kiba howls, banging his fist on the table.

“I swear on everything that’s holy, if I hear another _wurst_ joke, I’ll kick your ass to the next century Kiba.” Ino threatens, eyes narrowed and a half empty beer mug in her hand. This is her third and she is still far from feeling tipsy. Well, at this rate and with beer of all things she’ll have to pass on heavier drinks to get into the blissful drunkenness.

“Let him have his fun, Ino,” Chouji chides from the side. “You know how he is when he’s drunk.” He hides his fond smile behind his glass.

“ _I know_. Just as much as how he knows my hatred for _wurst_ puns.” Ino states, narrowing her eyes at the giggling idiot. Since Kiba learned that she was mixed blood – her mother was born and raised in Germany – he had the pleasure of pissing the blonde with idiotic _wurst_ puns.

Shikamaru sipped from his margarita. “It’s just a joke, harmless and awful. Nothing for you to shriek over.”  

Ino curls her lips in a cold smile as she chirps, “Wise words from someone who drinks girly drinks.”

Shikamaru looks down at his bright yellow cocktail then the vodka Kiba is absorbing in an alarming state then at the scotch Chouji is calmly sipping then Ino’s gigantic beer mug –her third. “…shut up.”

Chouji’s phone buzzes silently and he takes a look at the bright screen. “Naruto says he’ll be here soon.” Kiba roars a yes and Ino smacks his head for almost spilling his drink on her. Chouji rolls his eyes when he hears Shikamaru mutter troublesome duo.

The blonde raises her mug and keeps drinking until she can see the very bottom of the glass. Kiba whistles loudly and orders a new round while Ino checks her phone.

After a long verbal battle, Sai let her have his number under the pledge that she won’t abuse it. Ino gave him her word and she intends to keep it, so she only used it for daily innocent texts to which Sai always replied.

However, it seemed that tonight inkman is busy as he yet to even respond to her invitation for a drink with her friends. Ino’s losing hope fast and the fact that she won’t be seeing the tattooist tonight leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

Ino swiftly decides that the answer is booze.

Lots of booze.

“Why are we here tonight? Celebrating something or trying to get alcohol poisoning?” Shikamaru casually asks, eyeing the empty mugs and shot glasses between Ino and Kiba. The two were already on their second shot when he and Chouji walked in.

“Kiba never needs a reason to drink.” The burly young man says dryly but he too, is worried. Kiba could be understood but Ino _never_ drunk so much so fast. She liked to savor the taste, which she could with her high tolerance, and make fun of those who were already wasted.

Ino huffs and silently raises her mug. “I'm questioning the mental state of bipolar men.”

An unimpressed brow rose, and Shikamaru finds himself snorting, “And you’ll find the answer at the bottom of the bottle?”

“I won’t know until I try.” Ino replies cheekily and Shikamaru sighs.

Half an hour later Naruto pops up and Kiba is already wasted, Shikamaru is napping on the table and Chouji’s cheeks are a lovely pink with glazed brown eyes.

“Oh man! Can’t believe you guys are already out of it!” Naruto whines, signaling for the bartender. A mug of beer and a shot of tequila are served and Naruto drinks the shot and shakes his head.

Ino flips her hair, she is offended. “I can still drink you under the table Uzumaki and Kiba’s weird immune system can flush the booze in twenty minutes.”

Kiba gives the two blondes a thumbs up, his usual grin more lopsided with the alcohol in his veins. “Yo Naru! Ya zo late!”

“Sorry Kiba,” Naruto apologizes, scratching a whisker mark. “Got held up in my part time job.”

The next twenty minutes pass in a blur as Kiba sobers enough to drink _again_ and a three way drinking match between him, Naruto and Ino starts. In some point, the poor Chouji hauls the snoring Shikamaru – dead weight like always – and they bid farewell. Ino waves them goodbye as she gulps down her seventh mug and she starts to feel the slow buzz of the alcohol in her veins.   

“Zo, iz this myzteriuz man showin’ up?”

Ino glares first at Kiba then at her phone. “No.”

Kiba shakes his head and almost loses his balance on the chair. Naruto’s arm shots forward and steadies the giggling Inuzuka. “The room iz spinin.” He says intelligently.

Naruto raises his third tequila high in the air. “I’ll drink to dat.” He turns his attention to Ino and asks, putting emphasis on the letter z, “Who’zz the guy?”

“Ino’z new crush.” Kiba pips in a mock whisper at Naruto’s ear.

 _“A crush?”_ Naruto repeats like a parrot. As if the thought of Ino and crush together in a sentence are too absurd _to_ _even consider._ _“Our Ino?”_

The said blonde kicks both guys under the table. “He’s not, I'm not… It’s not like that!” she growls but her face feels uncomfortably hot.

Naruto keeps staring, mouth slightly agape and cheeks flushed from the booze.  “Holy father, she’z crushin hard.” He says, incredulity heavily lacing his tone. Then panic bubbles and he’s shaking Kiba’s shoulders like a madman. “Is the world endin? No, I can’t die without kissin Sakura-chan even _once!”_

Eye twitching, Ino slaps the tipsy idiot who cradles his throbbing cheek. “Shut up Naruto. The world isn’t ending and even if it did, you still couldn’t kiss the stupid forehead.” She grumbles downing down another mug of beer. Perhaps it’s time for the heavier stuff.

The room is slowly starting to sway but Ino needs more to drown the nagging voice inside of her. Three rounds later, Naruto is shirtless and singing Let it Go with Kiba clumsily beat boxing in the background. Ino laughs, with the help of the alcohol and she is still cackling when Chouji returns.

“You guys really hit it off this time.” Chouji comments, eyeing Kiba lying on the floor that looks moments apart from puking his heart out. Gentle as always, the burly young man helps Kiba back to his seat and gives him a cold glass of water.

“Not mah problem,” Ino mumbles, slurring slightly. “These _pansies_ can’t hold their liquor.”

“ _Wurst_ perzon ever.” Kiba declares, and Ino pretends that the _wurst_ is just the slur of the booze.

Naruto whips his head back and almost head butts the poor Chouji. “Who ya callin panzzie?” the whisker marks are stark against his flushed face and Naruto looks adorable instead of intimidating.

The possible drunken brawl is literally cut down when a familiar cold tone sniffs, “Sit down Naruto, you're an embarrassment.”

Ino’s foggy mind clears when she spots Sasuke with his usual scowl and Sakura hanging from his arm with a stupid, lovesick smile.

Ino feels like puking and she’s sure the booze has nothing to do with it. _Perfect,_ the night goes from _awful_ to _disastrous._

“Yo Sazke!” Naruto greets his childhood friend and the newly arrived couple sits at their table. Kiba grumbles something that could have been a hello as he slides closer to Ino. The Inuzuka is glaring daggers at the best of his wobbly state and Ino feels gratitude and affection blossom in her chest.

Sakura orders a stupid girly drink that would make Shikamaru proud and Sasuke takes a gin tonic. The conversation picks up again – Naruto drunkenly nags Sasuke while Chouji politely asks forehead about collage. She is more than happy to babble about the wonders of being a medic and Ino forcefully bites back her suffering groans.

The blonde discreetly eyes the exit, she knows that the only reason Chouji came back was to take Kiba back home. It’s the usual routine as Chouji didn’t like to drink heavily so he was always the sober one who made sure everyone made it home in one piece.

Ino had no intention of staying with the _perfect couple_ by herself. And Naruto, who’s so wasted that can’t even walk two steps without falling and landing on his flushed face. (Happened before, they had to call the ambulance as his nose was bleeding in an alarming state. _The idiot_.)

Ino orders two shots before checking her still dead phone. It looks like she’d need more booze to survive the goddamn awful night.

It hurts, seeing Sakura happy with _him._ It made the blonde conscious of _what if’s_ and possibilities and Sasuke is smiling down at _her_ , usually distant black eyes soft…

Sakura isn’t aware of it, but she is an extremely important figure in Ino’s life. The little girl with red hair so fair that looks pink most of the time was surprisingly the first girl to see the blonde as Ino first. Not as the rich girl, or the daughter of the police chief, or the daughter of the retired actress and owner of an elegant flower shop. In Sakura’s eyes, Ino was Ino and the blonde was extremely grateful for that.

So that’s why Ino swore to protect the shy little girl who often got bullied for her looks. Sakura was already low in self-esteem and Ino decided to take the mantle of the hero for her only and true friend.

Ino works very hard to secure herself a high seat in the hierarchy that is called life. The further up she is, the better she’d protect her dear friend.  What Ino doesn’t realize is that she becomes a complete alpha female, bitchy most of the time, and every single male with a dick wrapped around her little finger.

But Ino doesn’t mind, Sakura is having a happy and bully free school life and Ino feels a bit better of choices. (Only now she realizes that she turned school to hell for many and destroyed friendships, even ended relationships.)

And when Sakura, _shy pink haired sweet friend Sakura_ , declares her a rival of love for a boy she met _for a week_ to their years long relationship, and Ino _is_ _furious._

 _How._ How can a human being be so _insensitive and ungrateful?_

Ino is a graceful fury on heels as she uses everything she learned from her plays with boys to faze Sasuke. She’d been eying the gloomy boy for a while and now with Sakura in the picture, Ino wants something for herself for once. Not something fake, a real relationship and she wants to have it with Sasuke.

Ino believes that she can be happy with Sasuke.

Just like Sakura is.

Her orders are on the table and Ino drowns the first shot. She prefers the burn of alcohol to the burn of her eyes. Every single happy giggle of Sakura it’s like a knife twisting in her gut. Ino’s eyes stray to the couple and she thinks _she could have been_ in Sakura’s place. _She could have been_ the love sick girl giggling at his side. _For once_ , Sakura could have been _selfish_ and –

Kiba kicks her chair.

“Eazy there babe,” Kiba whispers and he sounds suspiciously half-sober. He had the strangest system as Kiba could go from drunk out of his ass to sober as a priest in a heartbeat. “Ya’ll complain to me if ya hurt ya manicure.”

Ino stares at her clenched fingers, a little more pressure and she’d puncture her palms with her sharp navy nails. Relaxing her hands, Ino takes a deep breath. The booze is taking effect as Ino can’t decide which Kiba is the real one and the usual chatter in the bar is nothing but a low rumble.

“You don’t hurt a manicure, Kiba,” she blubbers out quietly.

Kiba gives her a feral smirk. “Myzteriouz girl termz.”

The blonde snorts and she drinks her next glass with Kiba and Naruto. Sakura is hiccupping, her green eyes unfocused and Sasuke is trying and failing to keep Naruto still on his seat.

Chouji’s worried eyes judges her choice silently but Ino is not giving it a damn. She’s pissed that Sai ditched her, she is pissed that Sakura ditched her like a piece of dirt, she is pissed that Sasuke is here with Sakura, she is pissed that Kiba thinks she has a crush.

_She doesn’t._

Thinking through, Ino is proud that she is handling the situation. No fights, no snippy comments or bitchy attitude. She is sitting and drinking with Kiba; she laughs at Naruto and completely ignores the duo to her left.

She’s managing.

Until forehead grabs Sasuke’s shirt and brings him down for a sloppy yet hot kiss.

Ino feels as if someone just punched her hard in the gut.

She gets on her feet and when Chouji gives her a questioning look, she says, “I need some air.”

Surprisingly enough, Ino doesn’t stagger or wobble even once. She makes it to the door, pushes, and the cold night air is there to welcome her. Ino inhales the chilly breeze and feels the cold soothe the fire inside her.

The street is devoid of life but Ino can hear the merry, drunken racket from the bar behind her. She doesn’t mind the loneliness; Ino needs some time to collect herself and get rid of the fog coating her thoughts.

A heavy breeze sweeps through the street and Ino shudders. Her arms wound around herself to protect against the offending cold. She’s glad that she decided to wear jeans in the morning; at least her legs were warm.  

Ino gazes upwards towards the starry night sky, from the ominous clouds Ino deduces that it’ll be raining soon. The blonde is busy staring at the black clouds so when her phone buzzes suddenly she jumps and hits her elbow to the brick wall behind her. Muttering slurred German curses she lifts the buzzing device to her ear, without checking the contact name first.

“Ino?” the low rumbling sound of her name sobers her thoughts for a bit and she hears her name two other times before she can respond.

“Sai.” She mumbles, her tongue feels dry and thick but she manages to speak through sheer stubbornness.  

There is carefully hidden alarm in his words when he asks, “Ino have you been drinking?”

“No.”  Silence follows her statement. Her hand shots left to steady herself as she sways. “…Maybe… you can’t prove it.”

“Where are you Ino? I'm coming.”

Perfectly curved brow knits together. Suddenly, Ino feels anger bubble its way up her chest and she grabs her phone tightly in her hands. “Oh, so _now_ you want to grace me with your attention. Well, _flash news_ inky, you're a few decades late.”

With a childish whim, Ino hangs up the phone and shows her tongue at the screen, imagining her reflection as the handsome man.

Almost instantly, her phone starts to buzz again and Ino feels way too much satisfaction ignoring the call. The phone buzzes two more times and then it dies completely.

The blonde glares at the now black screen.

The anger, now laced with annoyance rears its ugly head once again. It sits below her skin, simmering and boiling in her blood and distracting her attention.

Ino suspects the sudden rage has something to do with the alcohol and SakuSasu.

_Scheiße._

She is making up _couple names._

Ino swallows past the lump in her throat and refuses – physically resists – crying.

The anger-annoyance helps.

Wind picks up, stronger and colder, but Ino neither wants to freeze nor wants to return inside to the awkward atmosphere. She pushes herself from the brick wall and with wobbly knees starts to walk.

A thunder rumbles from afar and Ino picks her pace, her feet are steadier by step and she starts to see things without their outlines shimmering in her vision. The icy cold greatly helps her flush any remaining booze from her system. Or her half-German kicked in to save the day.

“Stupid forehead. Stupid Kiba. Stupid Inkman.” She curses softly as she drags her feet along the sidewalk. It’s getting rather late and all shops are already closed. Apart from the occasional pedestrian hurrying home, Ino can be considered alone.

Bright and sudden, lightning crackles over her head and Ino almost falls flat on her face. Her heart ramming into her ribcage, Ino inhales slowly to swallow the glass shattering shriek.

A glare of extreme doom is fixed at the heavens. _“Don't you dare.”_

It starts to pour down.

“Oh, you can’t be serious! Seriously, _seriously?_ From all the times it could rain, it had to be _now?”_  Ino growls and she feels her breathing pick up and _red_ is starting to leak into her vision, not to forget her shaking fists and it’s not _fucking fair_ –

Ino screams at the top of her lungs; her pent up anger, her crushing disappointment, her sour annoyance, the deep engraved loneliness, Sasuke _and_ Sakura… all her problems mix in with the loud thunder and pouring rain, disappearing as if they never existed in the first place.

Ino felt better.

“Now that’s what I call therapy.”  

With a lighter chest, Ino hurries to find refuge in the nearest shop and stands like a total moron under the red and white striped umbrella above the door of the barber.  

She bows her head and her blonde rain soaked ponytail falls over her shoulder like a dead weight. Ino expertly twists the mass of hair and wrings the excess water. Although she is semi-safe from the thunderstorm, her little screaming left her to the mercy of the rain for a bit too long. There is nothing to do for the clothes hugging her figure like an uncomfortable second skin.

Her phone’s screen blinks repeatedly and Ino checks the message.

It’s from Chouji, he gave a lift home to Naruto and was on his way to drop Kiba when the storm hit and was asking where she was and if she needed him to pick up.

His worry warms Ino’s heart and a small smile forms on her shivering lips. The blonde hugs her shaking figure and discreetly asks about the smooching couple.

The answer is immediate.

Apparently, Sasuke is too drunk to drive so he and Sakura are at the back seat of Chouji’s car.

Ino frowns. She really wants to go home take a hot shower but her pride _refuses._

She looks at the sent message stating her being already home and Ino wonders if she had screamed her brain out too.

Ino is moments away from deciding to bang her head and call a cab when a bright flashlight blinds her.

“Ino?”

Recognition hits her like a wave. Even under the steadily falling rain, crackling lightning, and dense darkness, Ino can tell to who belongs the deep voice. Ino’s lungs seize when she meets familiar charcoal eyes. Just then, the blonde realizes how much she had missed the man.

Her stomach churns painfully when Sakura and Sasuke’s happy kiss flash in front of her eyes. The scene steels her resolve and she ignores Sai _. ~~(Like he did all day)~~_

“Sai.” She greets in, voice tight, which makes the tattooist hesitate briefly.

“Ino,” Sai calls her name once more. He scans the girl with a single glance, apart from being cold and _very wet_ , he notices, she seems to be sober.

Assuming his intentions Ino narrows her eyes and bites out, “Leave me alone.” The blonde crosses her arms, hoping the darkness would hide her trembling hands. The clenched jaw tells Ino that she failed.

He hops down his black bike. The light of the Ducati envelops his slim frame and Ino hates how it makes him look _hot._

“Ino, quit being stubborn and come here. You’ll catch a nasty cold.” Sai’s tone is commanding and Ino takes a few steps back involuntarily.

Hating to be cornered like this Ino scowls with all her might. She might not be intimidating, soaking and shaking but she can try.

Blue eyes flash under the veil of darkness in a way Sai finds it extremely _sexy._

“I don’t take orders.” Ino hisses, showing teeth. “Especially from unemotional, mysterious, gothic, jackasses _like you_.”

…And she kills all the sexiness the moment she opens her mouth.

Running a tired hand over his face, Sai tries a gentler tone, “Ino we are in the middle of a thunderstorm, so would you _please_ allow me to escort you back home. I promise you can bite my head off after you're dry and warm.”

Although Sai uses the magic word please, Ino is having none of it. She tilts her chin to the side, “I’ll call a cab. I’m sure the driver will at least _pick up_ when I’ll call.” A cold glare is sent Sai’s way. “Not like _someone_ I know.”

The tattooist sighs. He knew Ino long enough to know how stubborn she could get. Though he misses the source of her anger, he can see from the guarded glance, he somehow hurt her feelings.

“This really isn’t the place to make a conversation Ino.”

The blonde still looks away into the rain and Sai, irritated and cold, tugs Ino’s elbow. She whirls around with flashing eyes and thinned lips but Sai is faster. He swallows her protest with mind blowing kiss, wild and hot with teeth and tongue, that leaves Ino frozen like a statue.

“Now I assume you’ll be more willing to cooperate.” Sai muses dryly.

Ino just stares, it appears that her mind decided to take a small vacation after that _kiss._ So she is totally fine with being herded to the rumbling bike.

Thinking back, Ino chides herself for not kicking Sai in the nuts and going home with a cab. Clearly that night was the night that she passed the point of no return where her fate was sealed. Whether she wanted or not.


	4. Delusional Realizations

Sai drums his fingers over the marble counter, letting minutes pass instead of reading or checking his bike or anything _work related._ There are a thousand of things he could do than stare at his ringing phone, signaling the new message from Ino and do _nothing._

He just had to reach, grab his phone and read. Three easy steps.

However, when it came to Ino things were never easy and after _last night_ –

Heat pools in his lower stomach as the vivid dream plays in his head. Certainly, it wasn’t his first wet dream starring the buxom blonde but this time it had been so _real_ and the way she moaned his name had been arousing beyond imagination –

His phone rings again and Sai shakes his head in an effort to clear his mind. Rubbing his palms over his tired eyes, he utters, “I'm going mad.”

Sai greatly enjoys the quality time he spends with Ino, he really does. She can easily keep up with his personality and counter it with her own. She’s a force of nature, stubborn and sassy. Her laughter strings something deep inside him and he knows that there is a mutual attraction between them, but somehow… if it’s _something_ _different_ …

He can’t comprehend it. These complicated feels and strange urges he battles, anytime Ino is within range. The blonde manages to keep his attention focused solely on her when they are outside or just hang out in the shop. The Lord of the Rings marathon at her place was impeccable, the picnic last weekend was a success, and the bike rides around town after her designer sewing class were exhilarating, the shopping spheres were challenging and the video game days – every Friday and Monday – were downright savage. Sai isn’t sure why he even agrees with Ino’s plans but he does and he’s yet to regret a single one.

Things weren’t working out for the better, Sai thinks, his drumming fingers picking up speed. His life dramatically changed since the day Ino barged in it and refused to leave. The more he tried to push her away, the deeper she settled in and Sai slowly realized that his efforts to drive her away were losing strength, _fast._

He should put distance between them. It’s the right thing to do. Ino doesn’t know what’s she’s getting into and should she be harmed, just because she happened to know him… frowning deeper, Sai doesn’t want to consider.

Because it’s _possible._ Though Sai washed his hands off the organization, he did piss off his fair share of individuals and he did get the occasional assassination attempt. (Sloppy, amateur stuff that made him roll his eyes. Really? Was this the best thing they could come up with?)

“I'm back!” Shin chirps loudly, having kicked the door open with a blinding smile. His head tilts to the side when Shin notices the dark frown in Sai’s face. “What’s with the long face? No sadness when I'm present.”

 _Oh, joy_ , his brother back, alive, grinning _and loud._

Annoyed black eyes slide over the beaming idiot and Sai bites back his retorts at the sight of a casted arm and bandaged neck. The same black eyes as his, albeit larger than Sai’s, are sparkling in a way that indicates a healthy dose of painkillers.

Sai amuses himself that the slight swell in Shin’s forehead is caused by a collision with a wayward object. He wholeheartedly supports that idea. As Shin tended to disappear from his hospital bed the moment he’s conscious again, no matter in what condition he was. It wouldn’t be the first time that Shin had to be dragged back – screaming and kicking mind you – to bed because he reopened his wounds or missed the window – his usual escape route.

Shin’s hate of anything related to hospitals is quite infamous around, not that Sai blames him. While _he_ had been very young, his brother had been _old enough_ to remember. Shin still had nightmares from their shared time in the orphanage.

“Need some ice for that bump?” The tattooist asks sweetly, a practiced fake smile gracing his lips. “Or should I ask how the _wall_ is holding up?”

Shin gives him a middle-fingered salute. “It was a pole, thank you very much.”

Sai snorts. He’s glad that his brother is back, although a bit roughened, but back. “How did you deceive death this time, brother?”

Shin waves his good arm and Sai sees more bandages poking from under his brother’s shirt. “Always the drama queen with you. Just because I got scratched _a bit_ , doesn’t mean I was banging death’s door.”  

An unimpressed brow rises slowly. “It looks more than mere scratches,” Sai says dryly. He is faintly alarmed at the little sway in Shin’s steps and it tenses his shoulders. Sai is ready to jump and grab him before he greets the floor with his blinding grin. (Wouldn’t be a first.)

However, Shin makes it to the leather seat, unsteadily but he manages, and Sai allows his muscles to relax. The tattooist contemplates of either dragging his brother to the nearest flat surface or calling Rin over for a fast medical checkup. Though by the faint smell of antiseptic, Shin has probably made his escape from the clutches of the brunette medic the moment she turned her back. Rin should have cuffed him to the bed if she really wanted Shin to take his bed rest.

“Anyway, while your distraction tactics are remarkable, they’re useless against the awesome me.” Shin squints his eyes in a mock threat that only leads to an exasperated eye roll from Sai. “Spill the beans, little bro.”

“There is nothing to spill,” Sai replies voice even and disinterested, however, his eyes slid towards his left before he could stop himself. Shin easily catches the movement and twists his lips in a ~~joyful,~~ evil smile.

With reflexes honed through vigorous training, Shin leaps from his comfortable seat to the wayward sketch book on the counter. Sai mumbles curses as he reaches too, praying that Shin’s injuries are painful enough to stall him.

However, no luck is on Sai’s side, as even an injured Shin is a force to reckon with and he kept himself in top form while Sai allowed himself to slack off after leaving the organization.

His fingers twitch to just grab the sketchbook and hide it somewhere safe, out of reach. Not only because it’s private – drawings that sprung to life from his deepest thoughts and desires – but also it’s _precious_ in its own way. Sai’s jaw clenches as his insides twist uncomfortably, seeing the thick booklet in someone else’s hands – even if it’s his brother – it’s _wrong._

A little struggle breaks out, Shin drives his elbow into Sai’s ribs and the latter responds with a swift kick to the knee. There is a low grunt and muffled curses, a few wayward punches, awkward kicks and a painful bite enough to bruise but not break skin.

Once the innocent looking booklet is in Shin’s greedy hands, Sai growls and sits down. He knows when he’s defeated – unlike Shin who is a sore loser – and Sai waits for the inevitable teasing and general curiosity coupled with needles excitement.

Sai knows every single drawing by heart and every single line is still fresh in his memory, as is the model. The thick book is full of _her,_ and strangely Sai never gets bored of drawing her. Every time, she shows him a different side, like a palette made of a thousand of colors, not a shade is the exact same.

He likes the ones where her hair is down. Like a golden waterfall cascading down her slim shoulder to the small of her back. The ends of her golden tresses tease her curved bottom in a way that makes his mouth water. He also likes her braids which gives her a more feminine look and the casual buns that show off the pale column of her long neck.

He’s fond of the ones where she’s smiling. Twitching lips mere seconds away from turning into joyful grins, one side curved in a teasing manner accompanied by a golden brow arched suggestively, the smug smirks with her hands on her hips; the seductive smiles that make heads turn. His best, though, is the one where she’s crouched on her heels, eagerly petting a stray puppy and cooing at its adorableness. Her red lips are curled in a heartwarming way and her eyes are fond in a manner Sai never witnessed.

And the one in the diner. She’s gazing down at her half empty glass of wine, swirling the deep red drink. Her blue eyes are clouded, lost in deep thoughts with her other hand – delicate, perfectly manicured, with nails tinted in a soft violet – drumming absentmindedly. He’s a bit annoyed that he couldn’t exactly find the right colors for her eyes, she had a soft green eye shadow that made her blues seem denser – more like the ocean than the usual sky.

The ones where she is annoyed or angry are his favorite because those are the emotions that make her eyes shine the most. A lightning crackles deep in her blues as honey coated insults are thrown around. She abuses her soft lips aggressively with her white teeth, clicking her heels loudly as she marches up and down. She’s the most alive and breathtaking when she’s pissed and maybe that’s way Sai enjoys ruffling her feathers so much.

 

Sai is aware that he has some difficulties openly expressing his emotions. He knows, so he trusts his skill with a brush do the talking. A painted canvas could tell more than Sai would be able to. Perhaps, that's the reason why he is filling his sketchbook with Ino. He's expressing his feelings, feelings he can't name nor comprehend, page after page, sometimes with ink sometimes with acrylic, he's painting in hope that he'll eventually understand.

“Holy shit!” Shin exclaims, eyes bulging as he leafs through the pages. Sai’s wayward attention focuses back on his brother who whistles his appreciation. “Who’s this chick and can I get her in my bed please?”

Sai runs his hand through his hair and wonders how many times a child had to fall on their head to reach Shin’s level of craziness.

“No one.” He counters weakly, mouth forming a firm line.

“Nice try, little bro, but you don’t just sketch _no one,_ repeatedly if I may add.”  Shin laughs and the quirk in his lips forebodes disaster. “So my little brother has _finally_ come aware to his body’s needs. Now there is no need to feel scared, I’ll tell you everything you need to know about safe sex and –”

Sai’s accuracy is perfect as his water bottle hits Shin right between his eyes and manages to shut him up with a pained grunt.

A halfhearted glare is sent over his way as Shin palms his new injury. “Yes, abuse the elderly.”

“You're not that old.” Sai counters. He hops over the marble counter and tugs Shin to the nearest chair. No matter how much he wants to strangle the idiot sometimes, he’s still his big brother and passing out on the leather seat is less painful and troublesome for him.

The things Sai puts up with for Shin.

The tattooist absentmindedly thinks that if he ever had to write down his life that would be an accurate title depicting his life.

Shin eyes the sketchbook again but doesn’t comment; instead, he animatedly talks about his last assignment, giving heavy emphasis on his awesomeness. Sai listens, like always, and the tattooist pretends not to notice the shifting eyes of his brother.

Sai crosses his arms over his chest and leans back. He’s waiting for the inevitable, Shin had never been a patient person, the only reason Sai is momentarily off the hook is because his brother had different priorities.

“Okay _, fine!”_   Shin grumbles after five minutes. Sai smirks knowingly; he knew his brother’s quirks to well. “Who’s this blonde hottie you're obsessing over? How much does she know? And is she good in bed?”

“She knows nothing.” Sai stiffly replies, eyes narrowing. “And I'm _not obsessing_ , she is an intriguing model and that’s it. She’s nothing more.” Repeating it in his mind and saying it out loud had the same uncomfortable effect in his chest.

He purposely ignored the last question but Shin could read his little bro. Or so he thinks, “You haven’t screwed her yet!” there is a horrified choke as Shin turns his wide eyes at Sai. He leans and whispers, “Oh dear lord, are you _gay_?”

There is a strangled noise as Sai glares. “I'm not gay Shin.”

 “It’s okay, Sai, I’ll love you no matter what gender you’ll like to sleep with.” Shin waves his good hand around, as words spill out. “I’m your brother and I’ll always be by your side. You know I think Tenzo swings both ways, I'm sure if I ask he can help your first time be pleasurable. I heard gay sex hurts if you don’t know what you're doing so –”

“Would you like me to hit you with the bottle again?” Sai asks, and his sharp smile shuts his brother up. He isn’t above hitting his injured brother if the mild violence will make Shin listen to him rather than his irritating assumptions.

“I'm not gay.” Sai feels the need to repeat himself. A pointed glare ceases any argument from his brother.

Shin eyes his little brother and sighs. _“Fine._ Let’s pretend you aren’t gay.” His tone indicates his distrust of the statement.  “What’s the deal with the blondie?”

“Her name is Ino. She’s a college student and the bane of my calm days.” And from there Sai finds it easier to talk. He can’t handle his own feelings and perhaps his brother could help him out. Shin had always been a bit more emotional of the two.

Perhaps Shin can help him understand.

So Sai tells.

Shin doesn’t help him understand.

_At all._

He’s eyes are glassy as he bear-hugs Sai, spouting nonsense of young love, youth, marriage and how he’d be the perfect uncle. Sai has to hit his brother a few times to bring him back to his normal self – or as much as someone could be normal in Shin’s case.

Shin laughs, palming his aching chin. He mildly regrets teaching his little brother to punch that hard. “You're in love little bro.”

“I'm not.” Sai argues and adds, “I'm not capable of feeling.”

He can hear the ugly orders from the past, snarling that he was a machine and a machine alone. He can feel the ghost ache of his tired bones, and the sweat and the blood he shed along with his humanity. He was raised to be an emotionless machine.

Emotionless machines didn’t fall in love.

There’s old regret swirling in his brother’s eyes and familiar pain lacing his voice as Shin murmurs, “You're… _we’re_ more than that. You should have picked by now that everything Danzo says is worth shit.”

 Sai lets his head fall into his palms. He can see the truth in Shin’s words. Connecting the dots together is easy and the final piece glares with all his might.

“It’s like chick flick. You hang out with a pretty girl and both learn that you can tolerate each other,” Shin starts lightly. “Is it really necessary for something dramatic to happen for you to get out of denial and accept that you care for this girl?”

Sai looks at his pale fingers, calloused from holding different weapons, hands that committed unspeakable crimes. Crimes that would scare Ino away.  Would she be disgusted if she knew what kind of man Sai had been? Will her eyes look at him with fear or disgust?

Sai doesn’t want to find out.

A hand sneaks around his shaking shoulders. Sai finds much-needed comfort with the contact and leans back. He’s not used to so much emotional intensity and Shin knows, he always knows in some weird brotherly way.

“Call her. Things might not go smoothly between you two at first but I'm sure you guys will manage. And if she feels a fraction of what you feel for her she’ll understand. So call her.”

Confused and achingly desperate eyes turn at the injured elder, “How can you be so sure, Shin?”

Shin grins, in one of his patented I'm-your-bro-its-my-job grin, “Your eyes sparkle when you talk about her. And your face gets this stupid, kinda moronic, sappy, lovesick – ”

_“Shin.”_

“Okay, okay, I’ll be serious. _For once.”_ Shin shakes his head and his gray hair slaps Sai in the face. “We’ve been through hell and back little brother. Root might have fucked us both up and the best way to say screw you on their face is to be a happy functional human being. What’s more human than love?”

Sai takes in a shaky breath. “I believe you read too many teenage novels.”

“Hey!” he argues, sounding mildly offended. “I don’t make fun of your emo artistic lifestyle so back off.”

The two siblings stare at each other intensely before Shin bursts out laughing and Sai allows a fond smile.

“What about Root?”

Shin scoffs. “Fuck Root. You're done with that shit.”

Oh, how Sai wishes those words to be true. “If they learn about her –”

Shin digs his knuckles hard at Sai’s side, promptly shutting up the younger sibling. Sai glares and Shin winks.

“Some things are worth the risks little bro,” says Shin softly. “She’s probably worth a million bucks.”

The tattooist feels touched; he feels his lips stretch in a smile and warmth fill his insides. Strengthening his resolve is exactly what Sai needed.

“Enough dilly dallying. Call her, now.”

Shin dangles the black phone in front of Sai like some sort of bait. Reluctantly, Sai dials Ino’s number and his breath evens with every single ring. Anticipation coils inside of him, he’s about to hear her voice, Ino’s voice.

He’s rather shocked when he hears slurring German curses from the other end.

“Ino?” He calls out. Shin curiously leans forward and Sai kicks him away.

“Sai.” Is Ino’ response and Sai can feel panic rear his ugly head. She sounds broken, angry, hurt and drunk.

“Ino have you been drinking?” The words come out easier than Sai expects. 

“No.” silence. “…Maybe… you can’t prove it.”

“What’s happening little bro? Your face is scary. I’m about to murder scary.”

The tattooist is already on his feet and grabs his keys as he asks, “Where are you Ino? I'm coming.” _Don’t move,_ he wants to say. _Stay,_ until I figure out who reduced you to this state.

“Oh,” The sarcastic bite grabs his attention. “So _now_ you want to grace me with your attention. Well, _flash news_ inky, you're a few decades late.”

Ino hangs up but Sai is already on his bike.

* * *

 

Ino is furious, Sai can tell.

If there was ever a time he wished he could read minds, it was now, as he studied the seething blonde. The _very wet_ seething blonde.

He ignores the tightening feeling in his cargo pants as he slowly approaches. While Ino always had a certain charm in her, now, with her rain-soaked appearance, clattering teeth behind thin lips, flashing blue eyes like the storm raging around them, Ino possessed an ethereal beauty.

So beautiful that Sai just _had to_ kiss her.

They witness a forked lightning illuminate the dark corners. And Sai fully takes in Ino.

He _truly_ sees _her_ for all her faults, quirks, and worth. Under the millisecond of light, Sai sees a lifetime of Ino. Smiles bright as her hair, the faint wariness she expertly hides, the tip of her tongue poking between her lips as she scratches down her newest design, the stubborn tilt of her soft jaw, sparkling blue eyes with childish glee whenever Sai brings her pudding,  the exotic scent of wildflowers that seemed to accompany her and –   

Sai understands just a little more about the thing (Love, a voice suspiciously sounding like Shin whispers) – the attraction, the challenge, the frustration, and the want he shares with Ino.

* * *

 

Her head pressed on his tense back, thin arms hugging his middle, a roaring engine under her that speeds through the mighty storm, Ino thinks.

It strangely pisses Ino of, how the mysteriousness only makes Sai more attractive. The blonde doesn’t like secrets, though her curiosity got her into more trouble than she’d like to admit. So, the fact that she can bear the unknown that’s Sai, is _ridiculous._

The conversation she had with Kiba on the way to the bar sneaks into her thoughts.

_“When I think about him, I realize I don’t know anything about him Kiba. He’s the only one who has tried to understand me for real. However, when it’s his turn he’s silent. I don’t know about his past or the reason of his blank mask and fake smiles. I don’t know a single thing about him while it feels like he knows my whole soul.”_

Ino replays the whole day, the whole weeks she had spent with Sai and she understands that she’s scared.

She’s terrified that as soon as she finds out anything about him, the magic will break and Sai will get even further away.

Her arms tighten around the muscled frame. Ino has already lost her best friend and her prince charming. This fickle game she had been playing with Sai ended up with a deeper bond than she imagined.

She smiled and winked and seduced but in the end, the one who got mesmerized was _her._

Ino never imagined that she might lose more than she bargained for.

Could she be… more than… for Sai?

Under the assault of the pounding rain, Ino closed her eyes shut. Her head started to pound painfully, not helping her state of mind. The blonde is scared, terrified even, the sturdy walls she built through the years are crumbling like a paper forth.

She licks her tingling lips. She can faintly feel the pressure of another set of lips, a demanding tongue and playful teeth. There’s longing in her heart and an uncomfortable clenching in her stomach. A faint suspicion poisons her agitated thoughts.

 _No_. Ino clenches her teeth so hard her chin aches. _It’s just sexual attraction; once we sleep together it will be done._

The blonde didn’t believe in fairy tales or one true love. She passed the delusional little girl dreams ages ago.

After all, love didn’t exist.

It is just a fancier way of saying sex.

* * *

 

Sai takes Ino to his place. Well, that’s what Ino is assuming. She doesn’t recognize the neighborhood and the tall building Sai pulls over.  He expertly parks the bike under a metal plank and hops down, taking the shivering blonde with him. They go inside the old apartment complex, passing through ugly green entrance, Sai calls the elevator.

Punching the last floor, he drops his leather jacket over Ino’s wet shoulders.

Ino grabs the ends of the jacket without a word. She wants to explode, scream, kick and cry but she holds it in. A rusty elevator with annoying background music isn’t exactly the best place to get a mental breakdown.

Also, the promise of a bath and dry clothes helps.

The number 14 lights up as the silver doors slide open. Sai’s hand hovers over her back close enough to guide but not touch. Ino takes a deep breath, she isn’t sure if she could have kept it together with skin contact.

The drenched couple passes through greener painted hallways until Sai stops at the last door. He fishes his keys and they are inside.

Ino lets the heavy jacket fall down her shoulders and Sai turns around with the noise. She doesn’t care about the wet mess she is making, Ino growls and swings her fist as fast and as hard as she can.

Sai easily blocks her assault but Ino takes pleasure of the widened eyes. She can crack his stupid mask. And once she manages to they’ll end up in a mess of limbs under the sheets.

Then Ino will be free.

No, lose ends.

No stupid concepts like love.

Sex will settle everything.

She had to settle everything before she gets hurt.

“Where’s the bed. Let’s get this over with.” Says Ino without looking up. She fears of what she might see in those eyes. The blonde’s heart is frantically beating inside her chest as she mumbles a curse.

“Ino what are you –”

“The floor is fine too.” In a swift move, her drenched sleeveless shirt joins the leather jacket on the floor. The room is cold and the blonde can’t stop the goosebumps on her skin.

Ino is fumbling with her belt when a pale hand stills her. Instinctively her gaze shuts up, locking with intense black. Sai is looking at her but no matter how much she stares, Ino can’t find a sliver of lust in them.

How is she supposed to get over him if she can’t even get Sai to sleep with her? Sex is safe, it’s a mutual sharing of momentary pleasure. With sex, Ino knows what to do.

But Sai is still looking at her, wet strands brushing his deep eyes. She is cold, shivering but somehow the heavy emotions playing in those charcoals warms her.

Ino doesn’t want warm. She doesn’t know how to deal with the kind of warmth Sai is displaying. She wants a long steaming shower, fluffy pillows and coffee to help her milk her coming hangover. But she can’t. Ino has to deal with Sai right now because she knows she won’t find the courage later.

With a powerful tug, Ino frees her hand and wraps her arms around Sai’s neck. Ino tips her head back and crushes her lips against his in an uncomfortable angle. Her nails rake down the tattooist’s wet tank top with practiced ease.

Sai is still like a statue even when Ino desperately grinds herself against his muscled frame.  Faintly alarmed, Ino bits down softly on his neck than sucks strongly, looking for a reaction. Her clawed hands grasp his shaped behind, however, Sai doesn’t budge. No matter what she did, Ino couldn’t bring forth the fire they ignited on that kiss under the thunderstorm.

“Touch me,” the blonde rasps in the neediest voice she could manage. “Please, Sai. Touch me.”

 _Touch me,_ while I can still walk away. _Touch me,_ while my heart is still my own.

Sai closes his eyes briefly and the magical hold disappears. _“Ino.”_

Hearing her name, pronounced so softly and filled with raw emotion shatters her.

She crumbles like a house made of cards, but Sai catches her. His arm is firm and assuring so Ino just, lets him. The tattooist carries the blonde to the modest bathroom, fills the tub with steaming water and leaves Ino to take a much-needed bath.

Ino is supposed to be angry, she never liked being ignored, but she finds herself to be too tired for anger. She turns to fear, however, the mild headache annoys her too much to shake. And her pride wouldn’t let her cry so that only leaves insecurity.

Like in autopilot, Ino sheds her pants and underwear and slips in the heavenly water. A knock is heard but Ino doesn’t speak up, neither does Sai wait for an answer. He walks inside with dry sweatpants and a towel around his neck. Ino hugs her knees closer to chest and Sai clears his throat awkwardly.

“I’m making some coffee,” says Sai and he sounds as uncomfortable as he looks. “There are clean towels on the top shelf and I’ll leave something for you to wear on the counter.”

Ino nods and accepts the painkiller and the glass of water. She also lets Sai fuss over her a bit more until he leaves to check the kitchen. Once the water loses its comfortable warmth, the blonde slips out of the bathtub dries her hair as best as she can, and looks over whatever Sai brought.

A clean black boxer is small enough not to fall down her hips, however, the black t-shirt and the matching sweatpants aren’t that lucky. Ino had to fold the ends of her pants twice, and while the t-shirt ended right down her bottom, the collar refused to cover both her shoulders. So Ino let it slide down one shoulder.

It isn’t exactly her style, but she is dry and warm again so Ino won’t complain.

She silently steps out to a long corridor.  At her left, she can see the salon and she can hear bustling in the kitchen where Sai is. While the smell of coffee is tempting, curiosity wins.

Ino starts with the door in front of her and she isn’t surprised to find it to be a studio. She doesn’t light the room; the window brings in enough light for Ino to see. There are several paintings hung around and the smell of wet paint and oil tickles her nose. Blue eyes look through the messy room and she catches different paintings; a lovely sunset is in the corner, a German Shepherd running on a beach is hung over the mahogany table, a breathtaking forest is standing in front of dozens of canvases. But when Ino sees her own portrait left to dry in front of the window she feels the air leave her lungs. Her eyes spastically look around and she can make out several more canvases with herself.

The room starts spinning and Ino throws herself out of the damn place. Shivering and gulping air, Ino rests her head against the brown wooden door. When her heartbeats get to an acceptable level, Ino swears under her breath.

“Idiot, you were the one who wanted to know more about him,” Ino mumbles to herself as she opens the door on the right.

Its Sai’s bedroom and unlike the messy confusion of the studio, this room is perfectly organized and clean. There’s a king-sized bed in the middle and a dark brown wardrobe in front of it. Tentatively, Ino pokes her head inside; it almost feels unlived and dark and she is about to turn away when she makes out a small frame on the table. It looks to be a photograph with two people but Ino can’t be sure with the darkness and distance. With small steps, she strolls to the sturdy table near the bed and yes, it’s a photograph of a younger Sai and another man. The man has silver hair and black eyes like Sai’s, however, he’s beaming in a way Ino knows Sai would never.

They look close, friends maybe even brothers. Ino can see the ghost of a smile on Sai’s lips and the softness in his eyes. He looks to be completely at ease with the silver haired man’s arm around his shoulders.

“He’s Shin. My brother.”

The red frame slips through her fingers as she jumps back. Sai’s hand snatches the small frame before it falls. Ino gulps and inhales in hope to control her frantic heartbeat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sai apologizes softly and Ino shrugs in response.

The blonde’s eyes fall down the frame. She looks at the happy duo and her stomach churns. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me.”

“So I figured.” Ino snaps, hand crossed over her chest defensively.  

The silence is absolute as blue and black meets. Ino feels like she’s waiting on a knife’s edge, rooted on the spot. Unable to move and unable to look away, her breath coming way too fast as the air becomes heavy with tension.

Ino is determined to win. She was half-drunk, cold and wet on the doorstep, however, now the tables are turned and Ino refuses to act out of character again.

 Her lips curl in triumph when Sai tears his gaze away, conflicted and pained.

“The coffee will get cold,” Sai comments suddenly and Ino blinks in surprise. He’s about to leave when Ino blurts, “I won’t fall in love with you.”

Sai stops short, shoulders rigid and back tense. Ino is sure time somehow stopped that instant as she clenched her hands and tried to remember how to breathe. Did she really say that out loud?

Ino clenched her eyes shut, angry and annoyed at herself for letting those words slip. She is just about to lose control and break, though she doesn’t know if she’ll cry or scream or beg and God, why does it feel so painful too –

“I was hoping you wouldn't.” Sai’s tone is carefully even and devoid any kind of emotion. "Thank you for making it clear Ino, now, about that coffee –”

"I don't want coffee." Ino interrupts him. The coldness of her voice is mirroring Sai’s.

Sai shrugs, with his back still turned. “You can have the bed then. Good night Ino.”

“Night.”

Ino’s heart is beating fast in her chest, echoing through her mind and successfully washing away any other sound. She wasn’t aware that she moved until her knees gave out and she collapsed on the mattress.

Eyes wide open, panic slowly bubbling up her throat, choking and burning, Ino shuddered. “This is how things are supposed to be,” Ino lets out a strangled, strained laugh that sounds like screeching to her ears. “Come on, Ino, you know better. Love doesn’t exist.”

Darkness edges into Ino’s vision, chasing away all the light and she thinks that maybe if she can repeat it a thousand times it’ll sound true to her ears.

 


	5. Hangover Morning

Ino wakes up groggy and disoriented, into a way too sunny morning.  Her throat is dry and her head feels like it’s about to split open. She groans, a pitiful sound, and digs her palms into her eyes in some wayward hope that it might push away the pain. Behind her eyelids, Ino can see Kiba smirking and dryly saying, _“Just because you can outdrink half of the dudes in a bar, doesn’t mean you’ll be free of a hangover in the morning.”_

The blonde feels like punching his long-time friend, but she’s so disoriented that she’d probably miss. Good thing that he isn’t around at the moment.

She glares at the bright sunlight when she suddenly remembers exactly whose bed she was.

Under the natural sunlight, Sai's room looks just as neat and perfect as the night before. Ino hates it. She wants total confusion; a pair of mismatched socks should hang from the table, dirty boxers left forgotten on the floor can be done, and chaos reign in inside the modest wardrobe could be a start. 

Ino gets up and checks the wooden furniture and nope, everything is organized; clean, ironed and color coded. The clothes consisted of dark colors such as brown, navy, green, gray and black but they were still color coded.

“Kiba would have a heart attack.” Kiba's room is a glorified barn and the Inuzuka is somewhat proud of it. His mother had since stopped trying to clean his room, for the fear of dirty clothes gaining sentience and attack. 

Ino shakes her head and immediately regrets it.

_Verdammt._

The drinking escapade of yesterday left its trace with an annoying headache and the blonde lets out a hiss. The dryness of her throat is unbearable and she is more than a bit hungry. So Ino leaves the room, hoping to find a glass of water, her own clothes -hopefully dry- and leave before Sai realizes.

It’s wishful thinking as Sai is already awake in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove, stirring bacon and eggs.

Ino can see two mugs of coffee on the marble counter, the steam invitingly curling in the air.

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” 

Ino can't help but freeze. It takes a while before she murmurs, “Yes,” and sits down.

Sai hums, nonchalant. Even if he caught the lie, he doesn't show. “How's your head? Do you need painkillers?” 

“I'm fine.” that's enough clue, as Sai keeps his attention on the breakfast rather than the sleep deprived, emotionally drained blonde.

With nothing to do, Ino cradles the scalding hot blue mug and tentatively sips. The coffee is heaven sent and the blonde closes her eyes to appreciate the rich taste. She drinks the whole mug when Sai leaves a plate in front of her. The empty mug is filled with coffee again in no time.

Ino takes a bite from the scrambled eggs, eyes a bit wide. “It’s good.” she eats another forkful.

“My talent in the kitchen isn't noteworthy.” Ino didn't expect Sai to talk; neither did she expect him to continue. “Between Shin and I, we probably know ten recipes, which four of them are salads, however, what I can cook, I do it rather well.”

It's more than she ever heard Sai talk and Ino rather likes hearing his baritone voice.  But things are different, the blonde remembers last night and her words, and so does Sai. From the outside Sai looks the same, face blank, tone even, and eyes unreadable but Ino can pick up the small differences. The slight tilt of his head, the way he keeps his body away from her, the faint clenching of his jaw…

Somewhere somewhat, Ino picked up how to read him and she doesn’t like what she sees. Sai’s body is uncomfortable and his actions are forced.

Ino clutches the mug tightly, it’s so hot that it stings her hands but she doesn’t let go.  “Sai.”

“Your clothes are dried; I’ll call a cab to take you home when you're ready to go home.”  He avoids her eyes, the tattooist’s whole attention is focused solely on his plate and Ino lets him. She doesn’t know what to say anyway but she feels _the_ _need to say something._

“No, I didn’t – well, thanks, I guess, but –” a deep breath and Ino tries again. “About yesterday –”

A brief shadow crosses his sharp features. “No words are necessary. You made yourself quite clear yesterday, Ino.”

Ino snaps her mouth shut so fast her teeth clack together. The pain flares in her clouded mind and leaves Ino disoriented for a moment. Unintentionally, Ino’s breath hitches and her muscles tighten as the pounding in her head intensifies.

There are cold hands cupping her warm cheeks and Ino leans towards them. It had been a while that she let herself drink that much and Ino almost forgot how her hangover states were painful.

“Ino.” It’s Sai’s voice, lower than usual and laced with faint worry. Ino’s heart flutters and she anchors to his voice. “Ino, open your eyes.”

And Ino does. Sai is right in front of her. The chiseled jawline, the frustratingly long eyelashes and his fathomless black eyes, the silver leaf earring and his thinned lips. God _those lips,_ Sai must have the most gorgeous lips ever known. They aren’t pouty or red, actually, they don’t hold any sex appeal yet, and they are perfect. Thin, pale and with a tongue that can make Ino’ knees weak.

 _Verdammt_. He is beautiful.

“Just the hangover.” Ino whispers as Sai’s thumb brushes her bottom lip. The blonde’s stomach is churning and she’s aware how much she wants those perfect lips over hers, however, her pride had taken the blow last night and she won’t beg for his affections. Didn’t she bow to him enough? She pushed her pride aside and threw herself at him last night and Sai pushed her away.

She won’t beg for his affections because they are just that, bodily desires.

Ino finds her resolve and grabs it fully, dragging it over her crumbled pride.

“I'm fine.” Ino slaps the callused hands away from her face. Sai stares, brow twitching, at the blonde a moment longer and returns to his seat.

They eat in silence and not once does Sai look her way. He silently gets himself another mug of coffee. Ino knows Sai’s coffee addiction. No sugar, no milk, plain black and at least five mugs a day.

She waits with patience she didn’t know to possess, for the other shoe to drop. Her thoughts are _clashing_ in a way that makes Ino’s hangover look like a minor inconvenience. She wants to reach out her hand, but, to slap or to hold? Ino doesn’t know.  She wants to speak up, but, to beg or curse? Ino really doesn’t know and she hates it.

But isn’t that exactly what they have together? Times passed on uncertainties and unknowns; of enigmatic looks and empty threats, of faint smiles hidden behind silent lips.

 _Ino can’t…_ she feels ready to explode, _to demand answers_ she knows she’ll never have from the most infuriating, detached man she had ever known.

Ino just wants to return to the simpler days.

The silence is grating at her nerves and Ino finds herself unable to withstand the tension hanging in the air, crackling louder with every second, any longer. Ino is a woman of action, as is Sai. So, the disturbing standstill between the duo is just aggravating them further.

“Thanks for the breakfast.” murmurs Ino but her tone is far from grateful.

The mug in his hand hits the table with an echoing thud. “Good to know you're at least thankful for _something.”_ Sai’s words hit her nerves straight. Her mouth twitches and she glares.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blue eyes narrow, glinting dangerously close to silver than the usual pale blue. Her heart feels like it’s been pulled in a thousand different directions.

“Isn’t it obvious?” A dry half-chuckle follows his statement. The deep black eyes of the man are glowing with something akin to irritation and Ino feels the slights traces of fear in her gut. “You have no idea how _dangerously oblivious_ you are to the world around you.  Always doing whatever you want, heedlessly thinking about the consequences.”

“What is it to you?” she snaps, arms folded over her chest as to shield herself. Ino feels the familiar sting of tears in her eyes but she refuses to cry. Her already battered pride can’t take another blow and her pride is all she has left.

The tattooist grits his teeth. He is visibly shaking now. “Everything, as I'm the one who has deals with your reckless behavior. You're either blind or too stubborn to acknowledge that.”  Sai’s voice is cold, colder than the day when he had saved her from those two drunks. Ino’s fear is slowly bubbling and she tightly grabs her biceps to stop her hands from shaking.

She springs to her feet. “I've never asked you to do anything like that. I was perfectly content the way my life was before you messed it all up!” Ino bellows angrily. “So don’t you dare assume I'm the one who is stubborn when you're so skilled at changing subjects when it comes to your life, Sai,” a flare of anger edges her vision red. “Would it kill you spare me the tiniest bit of information? What are you trying to hide so hard?”  

His arms are tensely folded across his chest. “This has nothing to do with – _”_

 _“It has!”_ Ino grows fervent as she speaks. “I didn’t know you had a brother and the only reason you graced me with that was because I found his photo in your room. If getting drunk out of my ass was the way for you to speak, perhaps I should drown in beer.”

In her daze, she hardly sees him move. Ino is slammed on the nearest wall, and she yelps when his fingers painfully dig into her biceps. Her wide eyes shoot up to meet Sai’s burning ones. And Ino curses her inability keep her mouth shut when needed.

“Ino.” hisses Sai, through his clenched teeth and that single word seem to contain everything Ino should know.

Sai seems to be on the brink of exploding, jaw clenched hard, black eyes flashing dangerously. Ino remembers the gun he so casually pointed at two living beings, the carefree manner of his threats. Sai can hurt her easily and effortlessly. Even now, under Sai’s iron grip, her arms feel like they are about to fall off.

Something shifts in his eyes and as if her skin burned him, Sai backs off. Eyes wide, and skin sickly pale, he stares down at the shaking blonde. Ugly purple bruises are slowly blossoming on her skin where he tightly grabbed her and Sai feels sick. Without a word, he turns and with long strides he locks himself in his bedroom.

The moment his door closes with a bang, Ino sprints out of the building as fast as her shaking legs could carry her. She is on the sidewalk and in her haste of running away she almost gets run over by a taxi.

The taxi driver angrily waves his fist. “Look around before throwing yourself onto the streets!”

“Sorry.” Ino jumps inside the car and gives her address to the angered driver. Her breathing is erratic and her hands are shaking. Thankfully the man doesn’t comment about her fearful state and just drives in silence.

In ten minutes, Ino is in her bathroom under the scalding hot water, standing still and staring at a cracked tile in the corner of her shower. She cringes when her fingertips ghost over the throbbing bruises.

Ino wants to cry, let the world hear her despair, sob in a comfortable dark corner but she doesn’t. As much as she needs to release her frustration, all the bottled up emotions, she can’t bring herself to shed tears. The pressure is building, the need is growing and Ino is almost positively sure that her inability to cry would slowly kill her inside.

The blonde needs a distraction. No matter how fatal her mental state can turn to be. She is out in the open air and already walking. The air is humid enough to cut with a blade even with the sunset there is no relief of warmth.

In Konoha, falls are known to be dry than rainy and winters freezing cold with the occasional winter storm. Winter is slowly coming and as Ino hugs her jacket closer to herself, she glares at the gray clouds over her head. It better not rain today too.

So, Ino walks to campus, her heels sloshing water puddles with every step. She climbs up the stone steps leading to her workshop. The latest dress she had been struggling to bring into life is dancing in her mind, between the cracks formed by confusion and anger.

It’s very early in the morning so the hallways are basically empty. Ino takes her solidarity for granted as she walks through the long corridors. While passing, she hears the distinctive screeching she calls laughter of Ami _The_ Bitch with capital letters.

“Wow, look at this crap.”

Ino could picture hear the disgusted sneer in her tone and she doesn’t have to be there so see that Ami is also scrunching her flat nose. 

“Yeah, I bet my dog could paint better.” That sounded like Senri.

So the third who snorted should be Amaya.

Perfect, _The Arschloch Trio_ is here.

“I d-don’t think it’s bad.” A timid voice stutters and Ino frowns. “I work h-hard on it all n-night and –”

“Just because you worked _hard_ on it doesn’t mean it’s still _good.”_ Ami barks and her followers laugh, like the hunting cry of a group of vultures. Ino draws closer to the slight ajar door. She can make out several painted canvases and the strong scent of paint and oil. The bitch trio is surrounding a brightly painted canvas and there is someone else there, with long dark blue hair reaching her back.

“So,” Ami taps her foot, hip cocked and arms folded. She’s towering over the girl whose face Ino still can’t see, but her body is tense like a rabbit about to bolt into safety. “You better not turn that disgusting thing in and spare the humiliation.”

“Better yet, why don’t you give up? It’s not like you have a talent for art.”  Huffs Senri, throwing back her brown locks over her shoulder.

The girl recoils, and Ino finally sees her face. It’s that Hinata girl. She was Ino’s neighbor when Ino lived with her parents. The blonde would see her from time to time, though; she never got to speak much with her Ino knows that Hinata is a kind, shy and respectful girl who definitely didn’t need Ami’s bitching.

“There is no n-need to be so rude,” Hinata says, face pale and eyes wide.

“Or what?” Amaya gloats mockingly. “What are you going to do? Hide behind your daddy, or maybe you’ll push us around.”

Ino’s thinning patience snaps and she jolts inside. “Hinata is too nice for that.”

Startled, everyone turns towards the fuming blonde. Her eyes are hard like ice. “But unfortunately for you lot, _I'm not as nice.”_   Before the girls could react, Ino slaps Senri away from Hinata, deftly kicks Amaya behind her knees and finally, digs her knuckles hard and fast into Ami’s shocked face.

“You crazy German bitch!” shrieks Ami, warm blood oozing between her fingers. Ino is proud to see that she managed to break something. “Just wait until I report you, you lunatic whore! You’ll pay for this!”

“You say the same goddamn thing every time, Ami.” Ino grins widely. Physical violence is a good way to release pent up emotions.  “I'm done with your repetitive crap.”

Turning to the frozen Hinata, Ino’s vindictive grin turns gentle. Walking to her side, the blonde grabs her arm and tugs the stiff girl out of the workshop.  Hinata barely manages to snatch her canvas before Ino starts dragging her away.

“Yamanaka-san,–”

“Just Ino is fine.” They pass through many hallways until Ino stops in front of the small campus cafeteria. There are a few students who are eating breakfast but still, the tables are privately spaced enough for Ino’s tastes.

“Why did you get involved?” Hinata questions a confused frown on her pretty face.

Ino shrugs. It was more than the spur of a moment. The blonde never liked bullying. “They get on my nerves any day. Let’s say, this time, I had a sound reason to do so.”

Hinata seems to accept it. She nods, her cheeks taking a lovely shade of pink.  “Thank you, Ino-san.” Her voice barely above a whisper but Ino hears it.

“Coffee or tea?”

“Tea.” Hinata murmurs, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. The blonde can’t help herself but find her bashful attitude cute.

Ino smiles and it feels real, good, and somewhat lighter. “I’ll be right back.”

Hinata looks kind of sad with her eyes fixed on the canvas under the table. The blonde raises one brow, two Styrofoam cups carefully cradled in her hands.

“What did you do to gain _The Arschloch Trio’s_ attention?”

Hinata does a double take. “Arschloch? Is that German?”

“Yes, and it means asshole.”

Hinata’s expression takes a horrifying change and Ino can’t hold in her giggles. The timid girl looks seconds away from apologizing for swearing in another language.

“It’s okay Hinata.” She reassures the dismayed girl.  “I won’t tell anyone about your potty mouth.”

“I'm grateful.”  The corners of her lips lift in a small smile. And then she slumps her shoulders in defeat, Hinata reluctantly admits, “We have… disagreements. Different perspectives about our art.”

Ino hums and sips from her tea. Her blue eyes stray down to the canvas, Hinata is discreetly trying to hide. “May I see it? The painting I mean. Art is objective and everyone gets a distinctive vibe. So, may I?”

Hinata seems hesitant. She bites down on her lower lip and Ino is sure for an instant, Hinata will refuse. But she doesn’t. She carefully lifts the canvas, and wordlessly turns it.

Ino blinks, staring at the painting with wide eyes. “ _Wow.”_ She doesn’t know what else to say.

Hinata, a light blush on her cheeks, gulps loudly. “Please tell me what you really think. I d-don’t need sugar coated lies.”

“Hinata this is beautiful.” Ino reaches over the table to ruffle her hair. “The colors are gorgeous Hinata. Don’t let Ami’s bullshit get through you.”

The Hyuuga giggles merrily and swats the hand away from hair. “You… you mean it? I was w-working on so hard and I'm g-glad how it turned out.”

“And you should,” Ino reassures the girl.  Her baby blue eyes taking in the painting again, Ino tries to find out the message Hinata tries to convey.

It’s a beautiful scenery of a forest with every shade of green blended perfectly together. Between the tall trees with thick branches and wide leaves a mighty jaguar is hiding. Its shiny black fur is ruffled and lithe body is tensed, ready to jump and go for the kill but its golden eyes are a soft honey color. A total contrast with the predatory danger, its eyes hold kindness. Following the line of vision of the feline is a little cub that is trying to imitate the older one. The cub’s shaking, fluffy tail high, cute ears flat against its skull and similar golden eyes are full of innocent playful aura only a child could possess.

Ino slowly exhales, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. The message hits too close to home than Ino’s comfortable with. “You know he’s dangerous and yet…”

Her lavender eyes watch the steam curl lazily. There’s a knowing tone in her soft smile. “Even the roughest things have soft edges, Ino-san.”

“Wise words, Hinata-chan,” Ino replies lightly, careful not to let her tone be mistaken for mockery. The timid girl’s self-esteem is already low as it is.

“Not many could see it.” Her eyes fall down to her tea. Hinata cradles the styrofoam cup, letting the warmth seep into her palms. “It makes me question my decisions. Do I _r-really_ belong here? Painting and creating is fun but they are so quick to bash m-me even though I'm trying very hard to i-improve.” tears well up in her eyes and Ino’s heart breaks a little. “It’s i-infuriating.”

And Ino can see. Every single brush stroke in that painting contains a small part of Hinata. Her thoughts, desires, fears and expectations all swirled together with the colors to create that stunning forest. And when assholes brushed aside her talent, they weren’t only breaking her self-esteem but also her self-worth.

If her art didn’t matter why should she _the one who_ _creates something from nothing_ matter?

Hinata covers her face as her body start to shake with silent sobs. Ino fishes out a tissue from her purse and the crying girl silently accepts it. It takes Hinata several minutes to calm down in which Ino’s comforting arm never leaves Hinata’s trembling shoulders.

Ino drinks half the tea and asks, “Why did you decide to do art Hinata?”

She is quick to respond. “Because it was my dream since forever. And my passion.”  Hinata fidgets on her chair, avoiding Ino’s eyes. “Sorry Ino-san, I'm burdening you with my t-troubles. These matters do not concern you at all and yet I'm... I'm such a mess. It was never my intention to, I mean… I don’t make much s-sense, do I?”

The blonde leans forward and winks at her. “Not much, but so does life, so I'm not complaining. Feeling any better?”

Hinata nods and carefully wipes away all the marks of her breakdown from her face. “I guess I needed that. Someone to listen and to let out.”

Ino’s lips press together. Her hands gently touch her bruises hiding under her purple sweater. “I know the feeling, Hinata-chan. Believe me, I do.”

“It’s to be expected Hinata-chan. Once you lay bare your soul to the world, you're the only one who could fend for herself. I know Ami, and people like her. They are all quick to judge and quick to forget the kindness you show them. You can prove them wrong; you're here for a reason. Don’t give them the satisfaction of victory.”

Hinata sniffles. And when she speaks up, her tone is hesitant. “Are you t-talking about Sakura-san, Ino-san?”

Ino laughs humorlessly. “Perhaps I do.” She admits.  A pale man clad in black and fury swirling in his charcoal eyes comes to her mind and her heart clenches. “Perhaps I don’t.”

“Ino-san, is everything all right?”

Mechanically, Ino lifts her hand to her face and her fingertips catch something wet. Oh, so the tears have finally decided to come out.        

Ino tries to nod but shakes her head in the end. “I'm not sure Hinata-chan.”

This time, it’s Hinata’s arm curling around to comfort. “Would you like to talk? I'm not sure how m-much of help I can be, but I’ll try.”

Ino considers. Her baby blue eyes glance at the earnest girl and she can’t pick up a single signal of deceit in the Hyuuga’s body language. Hinata wants to help her out just like Ino had moments ago.

“Well, it all started with a bet.”

Hinata is a very good listener, Ino finds out. She doesn’t interrupt her once and neither judges her actions.  The Hyuuga is silent while her hand is drawing soothing circles on her back. Time passes and with every word Ino feels lighter.

“From what you told me just know, Ino-san, I can say that both you and he are very prideful.” Hinata’s eyes soften. “You don’t want to give him a chance to hurt you. You're scared of taking the risk.”

The blonde sighs. “My brain is screaming at my heart to shut up.”  Ino feels exhausted, completely empty and utterly hopeless.

“To hurt someone or to be hurt by someone,” Hinata chuckles morbidly. Her lavender eyes are clouded with a painful memory.  “I believe, Ino-san, a love where no one gets hurt doesn’t exist.”

Hinata sat quietly, still. Ino could hear nothing but her breathing. Finally, she says, “It might be scary to acknowledge how strong your feelings are for someone.”

Ino bites her lip. “Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, of course, I _might_ feel something for Sai that’s more than a crush. He obviously doesn’t feel the same.”

“What makes you say so?”

“He didn’t want to sleep with me.” The blonde responds weakly. Now, saying it out loud sounds petty and silly in Ino’s ears.

Hinata frantically shakes her head. “You're wrong Ino-san. Sai-san was aware of your drunken state and he didn’t take advantage of that. He must care for you, either as a friend or as something more… only Sai-san can tell.”

There is something about the gentle and honest way she speaks that makes Hinata near impossible to deny. Ino still doesn’t know much about the Hyuuga but her words hold wisdom and insight Ino desperately needs.

“You sound like you speak from experience Hinata-chan.” Ino doesn’t miss the way her cheeks blush and she feels like she is onto something. “Hinata Hyuuga the love expert. My, had I known I would have saved you from the _Arschloch trio_ ages ago.”

Hinata clears her throat and for a moment her eyes flick towards the painting. “I wouldn’t call myself an expert Ino-san.” Answers Hinata even though it’s not an answer at all. There’s a twist to her mouth that Ino can’t decide whether it’s happy or regretful.  “I just happen to know that there are two types of love in this world we live in. The first is comfortable like a fluffy blanket and a hot cup of tea. It’s shallow but safe. And the second one is wild and unpredictable like a raging storm. This kind of love challenges you, Ino-san, pushes you further and further. It makes you question yourself, but also it makes you feel alive.”

The blonde blinks and inhales slowly. From her behavior, Ino can see that Hinata is speaking from experience. “Which one did you chose?”

Hinata’s smile turned secretive but her slight blush gives her away. “I've been in love with the same boy for such a long time that Ino-san I eventually forgot that he doesn’t even know I exist. I was okay with it, watching him from a distance. But then I met _him,”_ she shakes her head, exasperated. “It’s good to be noticed Ino-san. Thanks to him I realized how I was pining after someone who will never look my way. Had I ignored him and kept my heart with my first love, I would have never experienced this intense emotion. I'm happy, Ino-san. _He_ makes me happy.”

Ino nods, the gears turning in her mind. Her gaze goes between the timid girl and her painting, takes in her healthy glow, sparkling eyes and confident loving edge when she speaks about her love.

Ino just wants to spare herself from the inevitable pain. She’s desperately trying to protect her fragile heart. But if Hinata is able to take the gamble then perhaps Ino could too.

Suddenly, Ino realizes how much she enjoys speaking with the timid girl. When was the last time she had civilly spoken to a female? Ino can’t remember.  She’s enjoying the girly moments with Hinata and the girl is so much different from Sakura. Ino feels at ease, they are almost like friends. Helping each other in tough times, a comforting shoulder to cry on, verbal support and Ino wants to keep it.

“Hey, Hinata.” She eyes the girl carefully but Hinata doesn’t comment on the drop of the honorific. Ino wets her lips and thinks about her next words. How can she hint that she wants to pass more time with her? Get to know the real Hinata, see more of her paintings and such. That Ino wants to have a true friend one again. “If anyone gives you hard time again, find me okay? I’ll handle it. And don’t listen to idiotic bullshit about your art. You're obviously talented and don’t let anyone say otherwise.”

Hinata smiles though her wet lashes. She understands. “Thank you, Ino-san. I will.”

“Just Ino.” She scolds lightly.

Her smile turns a tad bit brighter. “Just Ino then.”

* * *

 

The day passes relatively quiet. After the heartfelt talk with Hinata, Ino’s thoughts are organized, more refined, and she feels close to some sort of decision. She won’t deny her attraction to Sai, that’s kinda obvious at this point. Even after experiencing his anger, Ino wants to see Sai again.

But can she really call him at this point?

Even if her pride allows it, Sai won’t. The bruises he left on her… Ino is half sure that the tattooist will blame himself until he drowns in his emo-angst.

She thinks about the last three weeks. The wonderful dates, the delightful bickering. She thinks about the rundown shop in the middle of nopeville, that slowly turned to be a sanctuary for the blonde. She can picture herself sitting on the comfortable leather chair, sketching and bitching at the same time while Sai’s leaning on the counter, a mug of coffee in hand, black bangs falling over amused dark eyes as he listens to her talk. And then they’ll eat whatever Ino cooked the day before because the blonde is adamant that take-out is not an appropriate source of food if eaten constantly. And Sai will roll his eyes, tell her how absurd she is. He survived until now and if he was to die, take-out would be the last thing that could kill him.

_Verdammt._

The thought that she won’t be able to have days like those anymore leaves a bad taste on her tongue.

A chirpy fast tune distracts her and Ino fishes her phone from her pocket. The name makes her frown turn into a huge smile in seconds. “Dad! It’s great that you called.”

Ino hears her father laugh through the slight static. “If I hadn’t called I’d never hear from you. Have you forgotten about your old man already?” he jokes halfheartedly.

“How could I ever.” Teases Ino mirthfully.  “You’ll always be the number one man in my life.”

“Don’t let your mother know that. I’m supposed to be her number one only.” Inoichi confesses and Ino almost rolls her eyes at how silly her father sounds. “You’ll be here before eight, right?”

“Eight?” Ah, _Sheiße. “_ The family dinner I promised, at eight, of course, I’ll be there. Actually, I was just about to head out and come home. Funny things, coincidences.”

“You forgot.” Accuses Inoichi. Ino could almost see her father’s pout.

“Can’t prove.” Ino chirps in hope to lighten the mood.

Inoichi grunts and this time Ino rolls her eyes. “What if I promise to bring your favorite red wine?”

The line is silent for several minutes. “…Deal. But hurry, Ino, the lasagna is almost done.”  

“Half an hour,” Ino promises a warm smile forming on her lips.

* * *

 

Dinner is great as Ino has expected. She eats and drinks with her father – mom couldn’t leave the set and called them to say to eat without her. Even with the absence of her mother Ino enjoys her time. Her relationship with Inoichi had always been closer than with her mother anyway.

“How are your classes going, darling?”

Ino shrugs off the classical parental question that had to be asked every time. “Great actually. I managed to sketch down the dress that’s due for a week. I want to work on it some more before starting on it for real.” Ino is confident on this one. The basic sketch is done and she has to decide on the colors and fabric, then she’ll start sewing. She has a hunch that it will be one of her bests.  

Inoichi nods eagerly, like the proud father he is. Gulping down the rest of his wine, he gets up. “I’ll handle the dishes; you can go in and relax.”

“Running away from chores is my specialty,” Ino says, picking up her own half full glass.

“I thought designing was your specialty. Oh, no wait, having great hair 24/7, right? Nah, if I remember correctly, your specialty was – Oof! 

Ino draws back her elbow and Inoichi offers her daughter a playful pout. “Meanie. Since when my little baby girl became abusive?”

“Hanging out with Kiba and Naruto regularly makes you more inclined to violence.” Ino shakes her head. “You should hear them talk dad. Those two are capable of lowering the IQ of the whole room by just breathing.”

His father is still laughing loudly when Ino goes to sit on the big comfy couch. Blue eyes are instantly drawn towards the open computer and several formal looking papers. Either Inoichi was trying to squeeze in some last minute paperwork or there was an immediate case that needed his attention. Rarely did her father leave his important investigation documents lying around.

Curiosity and boredom getting the best of her, Ino scoots over to the classified files and a certain photo catch her attention.  

A crime scene and two mangled bodies. Both male and both beaten beyond recognition; broken necks and limbs, flesh decorated with various shaped bruises and cuts, skin white and cold by a touch of death. The crime scene looks from this morning, as there is the telltale sign of the thunderstorm of the previous night. Wet mud turned red by the blood, ragged clothes of the victims drenched yet cleaned by the rain and pink puddles. Ino stares closely as her memories stir with something familiar. Right there, around the taller one’s collar. There is this tie and had not been for the fury of the storm the thing must have been the most horrendous shade of yellow known to the human race.

Blue eyes narrowing, Ino switches her gaze towards the other victim.  Must have been slimmer than the other and Ino focuses on his hair. Dirty and matted with God knows what, it seems to be bleached and a bit on the longer side. Ino mentally spikes the strands with hair jell.

Ino’s eyes go wide.  She swiftly scans the case and words stick to her mind like glue.

 _Discovered this afternoon.  Belongings still on the person. Not robbery. Cracked cranium. Fractured spine. Broken ribs. Raptured muscles. Internal bleeding. Missing the left index. Possible torture. Potentially a murder case._   

It’s purple suit with yellow tie and his lackey bleached broom hair. They are branded into her memory forever. There is no way Ino can mistake the duo that almost assaulted her. Ino’s bruises throb, like a reminder of the catastrophic morning. The implications are bugging her beyond control as anger burning dark eyes and fury laced voice echoes in her ears. The room feels suffocating as if the walls are closing in. Dark spots appear on her vision and her breath hitches on her throat. 

When oxygen becomes necessary, Ino inhales deeply. Her hands are slightly shaking and her sweaty palms are clutching her knees for dear life. Her brow tight, Ino nervously licks her lips and closes the computer just as Inoichi gets inside, a fresh glass of wine in his hand.

“Are you going through my files again?” Inoichi’s tone rings warning bells in Ino’s mind. “We talked about this, Ino. These are classified investigation information and I can very well lose my job.”

The blonde carefully tucks her horror away and offers a tentative smile. It takes her a few minutes to regain control of her raging feelings and spun a believable lie. “Ami, Senri and Amaya. They were been pissing me off too much lately. Did you know that they are bullying Hinata? The sweet, shy Hyuuga that lives down the road. I was just checking to see if I could frame Ami and her bitch followers for their sins.”

Inoichi chokes on his wine glass. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, coughs and splutters, “Ino!”

The young blonde gives her father a smile wide as ever, but in the inside, her eyes sparkle with an emotion far from positive. Shaking his head with a sigh, Inoichi doesn’t notice and just hugs his daughter close, settling his chin on her shoulder.

He whispers fondly, “You're my precious. Don’t go sticking your nose into troublesome matters. I don’t think my heart could take it.” He murmurs into her hair in a loving way only a father could.

“Yeah daddy,” Ino feels her stomach sink as she lies, “I’ll try to behave.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Hinata makes an appearance! there will be more of her in the future and I'm thinking of writing a side story with her and her mysterious love *winks*


	6. Shin the Relationship Expert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a small remainder of the timeline. Sakura and Ino made the bet in the second week of October. Ino goes straight to the tattoo shop the same day, gets thrown out and sulks about it for two days. After other two days she storms back into the shop gets thrown out once again and this time Sai warns her not come again, Ino counters with ‘then you come to me’, two days later Sai does. Then they spend two weeks dancing around each other in dates-but-not-dates-bros-being-dudes. Right now, Ino has six days to get herself that damn tattoo before her time runs out.
> 
> I hope that cleared it a bit. And also, you guys were okay with having more Hinata, so, here you have it!

 

If Hinata had to describe her life in one word, it would have been stormy. No matter how hard she tries to excel or to be someone her family could accept, even be proud of; Hinata manages to destroy it like a hurricane. She doesn’t have to do much; just by existing, she is offending her family.

Like a storm, Hinata is unwanted and certainly, every single family member tries their up-most to stay away from her. Even her little sister, Hanabi, doesn’t spare her a mocking glance or acknowledge her presence. She is only seen when she screws up and with her shy, timid behaviors aren’t helpful the least. _She is never up to standards,_ as she heard her father say one night; _Hinata brings shame to this household._

She’s too weak, too withdrawn, and too soft for a girl of her status. She’s never good enough, never smart enough, and never pretty enough. Although Hinata knows it, she certainly doesn’t need to hear it repeatedly. But her family makes it mandatory to remind her. 

Sometimes, when everything closes in and Hinata feels like she can’t breathe, and the need to run and hide takes over her whole being, she hides in her cousin’s room. Neji doesn’t mind the slightest and he even takes her out for ice cream when she feels like she can face the world once again.

Neji must be the only sturdy rock in her storm. Whenever Hinata gets tired of the mocking glares, of the harsh insults, that twist together and add strength to the hurricane dragging her away, Neji is there. She can hide behind his strong body and shield herself from the ruthless reality and cry without being judged. Strong and gentle, Neji murmurs sweet nothings into her hair as his bony fingers massage her trembling shoulders soothingly. The older Hyuuga is a man of few words, but his actions speak loud enough for Hinata to know that it’s okay to exist. It’s natural for humans to fail sometimes.

If only Neji knew how crucial his silent support is for her delicate mental state.

Hinata doesn’t have friends, acquaintances she says hello and good morning that forget she exists the next second can’t be considered _friends._ She sits in the middle of the class, not to close to the front or too close to the back. Right in the middle with the hope of blending in.

She silently watches the world run around her, while aching to reach for someone to notice her. She wants friends she can go out on the weekends or gossip over lunch. She wants an innocent school crush she can giggle and blush about. She wants her mother to be at the gates, welcoming her with a warm smile when she gets home from school.

But cancer took her mother away and the people around her find her either strange or get annoyed by her stuttering low voice. She tries to change herself, to be bolder, louder but it’s just not _who Hinata is._

If she gets herself just like her family wanted her to be, would that person still be Hinata? Would she be able to find a scrap of her real self in that fake image she’s forced to create?

She remembers when her mother was still around, the hot summer nights where they’d sit on the porch under the stars and drink green tea together. Her mother would brush her hair while humming and old nursery rhyme, she’d say, _“Don't ever change, my little blossom.”_ Her lavender eyes would turn sad, but her smile would be still sweet and loving.  _“If you can’t embrace your true self how can you expect others to do so?”_    

Hinata was six, still starry-eyed and possessing something similar to self-esteem. She had yet to understand why her mother would say such things, but she too had gone through harsh rejection from a family she never wanted to be a part of in the first place. As a mother, perhaps, she saw the gentle soul her daughter possessed and knew how _inappropriate_ some could find this trait.

Hinata’s life is like a storm. She is lost and alone and her soft voice gets easily lost in the roaring wind. She struggles to walk, but the obstacles only make her stumble and fall, causing more shame to color her cheeks.

So when she sees Naruto, her heart makes a little jump, her blush intensifies in a way that couldn’t be healthy, and for the first time, Hinata sees a bright sun banishing the clouds away. She’s still getting dragged, bruised and ripped apart by the restless wind; however, there is a light that guides her and warmth on her frozen form.

Naruto feels like home, safe and welcoming, something Hinata had been absent of so long she wants to cry again. Though this time her tears would be of joy not in despair. The boy gives her the strength to endure the hurricane.

The blond is energetic, loud, lively, recognizable, and a bit of a goof. He is everything Hinata aspires to be and she feels fickle of treacherous hope that maybe he could see her too. Just like she sees him.

Though it’s uncomfortable and a little saddening; Hinata doesn’t mind Naruto’s flamboyant declares of love for Sakura. She’s content with watching from the sidelines, as always, and tries to catch a glimpse of his vibrant energy. That’s enough – that should be enough.

 _He is young_ , Hinata reminds herself, _and good things come to ones who wait._ Sakura definitely doesn’t favor him so, if Hinata is patient, maybe then, _maybe then…_

But Hinata is tired, battle weary of living with maybes and perhaps and possibilities. Having an unrequited love stings painfully and sleep evades her some nights. Though her life is far from perfect, Hinata still has that naïve optimistic view that _things will eventually turn for the better._

As she leaves her lonely teenager stage to grow into a young woman, things get worse. Expectations are higher, insults are harsher and Hinata doesn’t help her case by deciding to pursue art.

She notices the disapproval in her father’s eyes when she declares her passion for drawing, for creating. This is the only thing she’d never let her family taint. For once, Hinata wants to do something she wants, something she desires from the bottom of her heart.

She won’t cast aside her dream.

Of course, father disagrees.

So, standing as tall as she can while dropping her head to hide her watering eyes, Hinata gathers her things and leaves her house. A house that never really felt like home in the first place.

Maybe her time with mother long ago could have counted as domestic; however, mom wasn’t there anymore.

She is tired. Hinata is tired of fighting the storm and even the sun Naruto brings with his presence, starts to be ineffective. How can a warm, bright sun stand against strong, cutting winds?

Neji is at the door, waiting for her. He takes in her trembling shoulders, thinned lips and watering eyes but he doesn’t utter a word. Silently, he takes one of her bags and Hinata’s chest feels lighter. She inhales and exhales slowly before moving on. When Neji looks down at her face with a questioning look, Hinata answers with a smile that’s weary and sad. There is a resigned sort of acceptance in her eyes that makes Neji look away.

Hinata’s glad to have at least one person at her side. It feels nice to have someone she can turn to when she needs it. She’s glad that Neji’s there with her when she hunts down for an apartment. She’s glad that Neji’s there with her when she has to deal with the paperwork for college applications, setting a bank account. Her mother did leave her some money as if she had predicted this day, but Hinata knew that she couldn’t live by with that amount.

For once in her life, Hinata has to work to pay for her expenses and strangely she doesn’t mind. The Hyuuga easily finds a one room apartment, near the campus, small but hers and her alone. It’s her space to decorate, to fill. She feels free, her heart fluttering uneasily yet she feels free.

And utterly alone.

* * *

 

Sai misses Ino. Misses the blonde with such intensity that the feeling hammered his chest and clawed at his thoughts. He misses everything about her, her poised grace, the confident blue eyes, the endless playful bickering, her soprano laughter that warmed his chest, the exotic scent of wild flowers she carried. God, it has been only a day but Sai felt like years has passed by.

Especially the hours he spent alone in his apartment when the yearning for the blonde became too strong are the worst. His blank eyes would unconsciously slide to the kitchen, then to his bedroom, and finally to that wall.

That damned wall.

Perhaps, Sai is becoming a budding masochist because no matter how painful or frustrated it got him, he kept looking at that corner.  Forcing himself to remember her trembling lips and watering eyes. That little sound of pain that escaped and tore him through.  

He tells himself that he can do this. Ino is strong and she’ll get over it, so, he should too.

However forgetting about the blonde seems to be the hardest decision he had ever made.

Distraction is needed, Sai decides. He gets his jacket and keys, in record time he’s outside on his bike speeding towards his little shop.

* * *

 

The glass door slams open with such force that the doorknob leaves a small dent on the white wall. And with that, it will be the fifth time Sai will have to repair the damage this year. Shin had to either learn to control his own strength or how to open a door humanly. Or, Sai realizes that he needs to invest in some sturdy locks.

“The most awesomest big brother is here!”

Shin strolls in, looking healthy as a horse and grinning like the idiot he is. Sai doesn’t spare him another glance and keeps his attention on his work.  That’s his plan but he stills when he catches the nasty bruise bloomed over Shin’s left cheek, clashing with his pale skin.

Knowing the silent question in Sai’s dark eyes, Shin shamelessly admits, “Had a tiny little mishap in the medical ward this morning.”

The dots connect easily and his mind is quick to play the tragedy before his eyes. Shin goes to the mandatory check up to be cleared for duty, smiling like an idiot and barges in the office without knocking. Rin – their long time medic friend who patched them up too many times to count and dragged their careless asses back to life more than once – is filling her paperwork, her brown hair a tangled mess and already on her third cup of coffee. She tiredly glances up, already used to Shin’s exuberant behavior and just motions him to the examination table.

“You groped her during the checkup.” It was, sadly, a common occurrence with Shin and though Sai hadn’t been in the organization for a while he knew his brother and had witnessed it firsthand many times.

Shin furiously shakes his head, slapping his face with his silvery strands. “I just physically admired her feminine details. I really don’t understand why she had to go all crazy banshee on me!”

“You groped her.” Sai flatly repeats and Shin flips him off.

Sai closes his eyes with a small pained sigh. “One day, brother, Rin is going to kill you, slowly, and no one will stop her because you deserve it.”

“I can always outrun her.” He pipes up, a boyish grin on his face. The tattooist can’t see why Shin is so gleeful over it

Sai gives him a flat look. “Even if you somehow evade her Obito will catch you, and Kakashi will stay on the sidelines silently watching you get brutally murdered. I wouldn’t blame him, you're groping his _wife._ Are you seeking an early grave? _”_

“That’s where you're wrong brother.” Shin swings his arm around Sai’s shoulders and goes limp, forcing the younger to support his weight. “Life is lived when there is action in it. Loosen up a bit!”

“Our views of life vastly differ,” Sai says dryly as he slithers out of Shin’s hold.

The silver haired man snorts. “Yeah, you like to go down on oily bikes or turn pathetic guys into pathetic _and scary_ guys with tattoos. You get no say on what’s considered fun by default, little bro. But your boring life is for later, I'm here for something else.”

A quick, sinister smile then a suspicious looking bag is left on the counter. “You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

“Maybe I was busy.” Dryly offers Sai. A fake smile is on his lips as he eyes the weird plastic bag. His guts warn him but Sai isn’t sure why.

Shin shakes his head with a mocking snort. Annoyingly poking Sai’s cheek, he answers, “Oh dear little bro, you don’t get busy. Ever. If you aren’t answering means you're brooding. Was rejection that bad?”

Sai lets out a breathy, stilted sort of noise, almost like a pained sigh. A memory he tried so hard to suppress rears its ugly head. Seeing his brother’s inner struggle, Shin quietly stands rooted to his place. He had never seen such conflict take place in Sai’s face and the possible reasons put fear into his heart. However, Shin keeps his smile glued to his face and lets his little brother compose himself.

Sai inhales – deliberately slow and Shin is anticipating something of great importance or heartfelt to tumble from his lips. “I'm not in the mood to entertain you brother.” Sai spats finally, after what feels like forever. The action causes the ink to spill. With a growl, Sai gets rid of the ruined paper and starts his sketch all over.

Forcefully pretending as if the last 20 seconds didn't happen, “So, how was your heartfelt confession?” Shin asks, a sly smirk stretching his lips. His expression does not betray his fretting thoughts. “Please tell me you guys had some passionate sex after.”

Sai easily ignores his brother thanks to years’ worth of practice. His long fingers fly through the pristine paper, leaving black trails behind every move. It’s been a while since he got himself a new tattoo and he strangely feels the need of another addition to his ever growing collection.

“It’s rude to ignore an older sibling.” Sai can't see his brother but he can picture the dramatic pout. “Especially if said sibling is awesome as me.”

The tattooist keeps his aloof, cold demeanor and Shin decides it’s time for some brotherly time. He grabs the plastic bag he brought with him and takes out a small, round container. “Even though you're a massive jerk and totally don’t deserve this,” he flashes a smile and Sai forebodes disaster. “Food is always the right answer, so I made pudding!”

The brush falls from Sai’s unresponsive fingers, his eyes wide, the room feels cold. It takes him a heartbeat to jump away from his brother who vaulted over the counter. Shin traps his brother, the innocent looking pudding in one hand and the other holding Sai’s shirt.

“Where are you going, little bro? After I went through all the trouble to make it.” Shin ducks a swift left hook. “And I only messed up the _first six_. This one looks edible.”

“I'm not eating that!” Sai says hotly. His stomach churns as he remembers Shin’s past culinary attempts. Dying of food poisoning didn’t look inviting, at all.

Shin rolls his eyes. “Just taste it! That’s all I need. Oh, and also you can act like it tastes divine so I can brag it to Kakashi.”

Instead, Sai offers, “Go bungee jumping without the rope.”

“Ah, point proven of why I consider you a jerk.” Happily, sings Shin. Then, he kicks the black haired man and disturbing his balance, causing him to fall with Shin on top of him.

“Get off me, Shin! I'm not eating anything you have touched.”

The silver-haired brother pouts, but his eyes are shining in mischief. “I'm not _that bad_ of a cook.” He whines.

Sai struggles harder to get away. Shin’s food is a health hazard in a good day. “ _Yes, you are.”_

Time stills for a second, and then, a full out struggle breaks out. The pudding is forgotten as the two brothers roll over the small place behind the counter, trying to beat each other into submission. Hissed curses, missed kicks, delivered punches.

Finally, Shin somehow gets the upper hand, catching his little brother in a deadly headlock. With a bright smile that can rival the sun, the silver-haired man shouts, “Shin’s ultimate brotherly punishment!” and bony knuckles painfully dig into Sai’s skull. The tattooist grunts, teeth clenched, and the noogie turns into a hair messing contest until Sai can manage to slither away from Shin’s hold.

“You're so immature.” He huffs, eyes flashing. However, the messed hair kills away any fear-inducing glare that face could manage.

Shin laughs, still lying on the cold pavement and not making any movements to get up. He playfully wiggles his eyebrows, not denying his brother’s words.

There is stilled silence for a moment. Both catch their breath, the sullen mood comes back as Sai sits back on his chair, brush back in his hand. “We fought,” Sai admits, bitterly and hurriedly. 

He hopes that his brother would get the message and leave him alone because his head is a mess. He wants to tear down something, break bones, spill blood and pierce skin. Sai is in one of his dangerous moods and while he knows his brother is competent enough to get away, he still doesn’t want to hurt him.

He also didn’t want to hurt Ino, but look where he is now.

The silver haired man jumps to his feet and casually rests his hip against the counter. “So? Flash news little bro, couples fight all the time. Sorry to burst your bubble but you are neither the first nor the last to do so.” Jokes Shin lightly.

Dread is still bubbling in his chest and by every second he gets more lost on what to do or how to act against his little brother. He had to deal with brooding Sai before, thousands of times even, but this feels different. _Way too much_ different and Shin doesn’t know which way to turn.

“We aren't a couple,” Sai stresses out; gripping his brush tightly and his ears pick up micro cracks. He curses at the ink stains ruining his newest design. “Never been, and never will.”

Shin snorts and drags the nearest stool towards the marble counter, flopping on it; he rests his elbows on the cold stone while swinging his feet childishly. “You're giving up a bit too easily there, little bro.” he points out softly.

Sai's shoulders sag down, tired or defeat – Shin can’t tell. He feels exhausted and his muscles are all way too tense. “It’s better this way. I’m not good for her.”

“But she's good to you.”

“Shin, listen.” Sai murmurs wearily. His brother didn’t seem to understand his troubles. “If somebody threatened me wouldn’t you want to protect me?”

Without missing a beat the silver haired man replied, “Of course I would, I care about you –”

“Going from that perspective, who do you think is the greatest threat to Ino?” His horse voice is like silk polishing steel. “We both know the answer to that, don’t we brother? With me out of her life, she’ll be safe. It’s rather simple.” there is resigned finality in Sai’s charcoal eyes.

Shin sighs, one hand raking through his thick hair.  He’s silent as he considers his brother’s perspective and how to beat him back towards to the right path. _Damn, being a big brother sure is demanding sometimes._

“Sai,” he calls him with his name. Something Shin does rarely – usually when he is mad so the tone is wrong. “This girl makes you happy. She might change you for the better because that’s what people do – they are ever-changing.  Give her a change, bro, a real chance.” _And this will lead a better change to your life,_ goes unsaid.

 “I hurt her.”

“And right now, you're emotionally hurting yourself.” Shin points out.

When Sai replies, his voice sounds strangely detached, “It’s better to hurt myself than her.” It is a thought the tattooist holds on with all his might. “Her safety is the only thing that matters.”

Shin stares at his little brother, silver brows knitted together, he silently waits for him to continue. The ugly dots are slowly getting together to form a picture Shin rather not acknowledge.

“But aren’t you hurting her, too? Emotionally this time.” Shin says, gravely and straight to the point. “Do you really expect her to just understand why the fuck you started to give her the cold shoulder? We’ve known each other since forever bro, I know the way you think, blondie doesn’t. How long before she starts to blame herself? No matter how noble your intentions are you can’t just leave loose ends.”

Sai doesn't respond, so Shin continues to speak softly, gentler than he ever heard. “Also, isn't that something she should decide? I mean, how much does she know about you? If I know you, which I do, the answer should be almost nothing. If you just let her in-”

“Ino has the outstanding ability to push my patience to the limit. I believed I had better self-control than that.” he rips off the messy inked paper and starts renew. He bitterly wished he could start again with his own life too. A blank white paper for him to fill to his liking. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

“What did she do?” Shin asks chin probed up in his palm. He keeps his cool, because right know Sai truly needs advice, guidance from an elder, and Shin is determined to help his little bro. Because that’s what awesome older siblings do, help the younger one through the ugly, unfair ride called life. 

“Cried.” Sai sighs. He sounds old, older than he is and Shin’s gaze falls down to the polished marble. “I've never shown her my… unstable side before. Ino would probably never return here.” she better not, Sai thinks dryly. Hurting the blonde again is the last thing he wants.

Shin hums, his blank face doesn't betray his emotions and Sai wonders what his brother might be thinking. Was he disappointed in him? Did he resent him for striking and innocent girl? A girl he liked more than he was allowed too.

“You're an asshole.” the silver haired man concludes. He fervently nods as if the answer was clear from the start. “So the first word out if your lips when she storms back better be ‘sorry’.”

“She won't come back.” the tattooist murmurs, his forgotten brush dripping ink all over the counter. “Ino is quite clever, more than she lets on. She understands what’s at stake here and will act accordingly.”

Shin snorts, black eyes amused, and asks, “Do you believe that? Do you really think you can predict feelings?”

“…No.”

“There you go then. Wait for her to come back after she had some time to work through her thoughts. And this time, little brother, don't mess up.” His brother smirks. “You can’t play _hard to get_ when you're already _hard to like.”_

The teasing edge washes over Sai like oil on water. He stares up. Shin is wiggling his eyebrows immaturely and his stupid lopsided grin looks way too moronic than usual.

“Idiot,” he calls him fondly. “Has anybody ever told you that you can be a terrible nuisance?”

“Oh, all the time! Especially, Rin and Tenzo. They say it thrice a day. I know, because I'm keeping track.” He winks, and overdramatic look in his dark eyes.

Sai laughs, his chest lighter.

So light that he feels that he can confess what he did yesterday morning after running away from his apartment.

“Shin,” the man’s eyebrow rises in response. “Something else happened.”

Shin hums, noticing how his little brother avoided eye contact. Is it shame of whatever he did that made the tattooist unable to look him in the eye? Good thing that Shin knows what to do.

“Does it affect me?” he asks, blunt, straight to the point.

Sai’s dark eyes slide over the walls covered with tattoo samples. “…No.”

 “Then suffer in silence.”

 _“Brother.”_ Sai snaps, his head jerking up and meeting his eyes. There is a sliver of plea in his tone that makes Shin roll his eyes.

“Cough it up then. Your awesome brother is here for you.”

* * *

 

The chilled wind brushes along her cheeks, biting and reddening them to a faint rosy hue. Ino silently curses as she juggles the plastic bags full of groceries to a more secure hold. The cold had found an excellent time to visit Konoha.

If only it didn’t drag the snow with it too.

Ino fastens her steps, eager to be in her warm apartment with a scalding hot cup of chocolate before the first fall of snow. A strong gust of winds sweeps by, messing up her blonde bun. She feels her phone vibrate in the back of her pocket but Ino is too busy to check, however, when the damned machine vibrates the fourth time, Ino whips it out with a snarl.

“Someone better is dying.” She hisses the moment the line connects. One of the grocery bags is dangerously close to falling but Ino manages to straighten it somehow. “If not I can arrange a funeral, starting with you.” She did have a gorgeous black dress for a ceremony too. What are the odds?

Ino knows she is being a total bitch. She does, but being depressed always seemed to bring the worst side of her and Ino had been way too depressed for the last weeks. Since she had stepped foot in that run down shop with the most infuriating owner –

“Good to hear you too, blondie,” Kiba says, and the faked politeness stops Ino’s upcoming rant.

“Kiba?” Ino calls out when the Inuzuka doesn’t respond for several minutes. 

“Oh, yeah, I'm still.” A heaved sigh and it’s not okay, not even vaguely. “Look, I didn’t know who else to call. You weren’t exactly my first choice, I learned about your relationship this morning and my memory isn’t that great or I would have called much _much_ earlier –”

“Kiba you're rambling.”

“I'm sorry.” Kiba apologizes and Ino frowns. Receiving an apology from him is like pulling teeth. “Just… it’s Hinata. She isn’t responding to my calls.”

“Why would she?” Ino asks as she checks the road for cars. As the horizon is clear she swiftly gets across, her heels clicking on the asphalt rhythmically. She’s so close to her apartment as the snow starts to softly fall from the clouds. “Wait, why do you know Hinata?” _since when_ goes unasked.

“She works at the café that makes killer brownies, but we had personally met almost a month ago. I took a wrong turn and ended up in the art department – anyway, that’s not the point.” Kiba’s voice gains a hurried edge. “The thing is – well, I pissed her off, badly.”

“And now she isn’t giving a fuck about you.” Snow begins pelting down in hard bullets and the unforgiving wind whips at her, completely pulling her hair free from the casual bun. “Fucking weather.” She hisses.

 _“Ino,”_ Kiba whined and the painful tone tugs Ino’s heart. Though they always tease each other endlessly, Kiba is like a brother and Hinata is turning out to be a dear friend.

“Ino, I want to apologize to her. I said some shitty stuff and she’s a good friend. I don’t want my stupid mouth to ruin this.”

“Maybe her phone died.” Ino offers. The snowy wind is stinging her eyes and she breaks into a small jog. The blonde thanks the makeup Goddess for inventing waterproof mascara. Her hair was a mess at this point but at least she didn’t look like an abandoned raccoon.

She hears an annoyed grunt. “It rings but no one picks it up.”

“What did you do? Killed her pet?” Hinata is the type to bring strays home.

“Don't even joke about it,” Kiba growls. Ino sometimes forgets how Kiba is adamantly defendant about animals.

The blonde turns the corner, her breath coming out in small puffs. Who knew, the shy Hyuuga could hold grudges after all. “Okay, but why did you call me?”

“Cuz you're her only girlfriend!”

“Kiba,” Ino pushes the massive door of the apartment building as the wind starts to howl and the snow turns into a small storm. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Just because I'm a girl and Hinata happens to be one, doesn’t mean I magically turn into a Gps.” 

She calls the elevator.

“What crawled up your ass today?” disgusting corpses flash behind her mind, turning her stomach. She shoves the petrifying images and poison filled words to the farthest corner of her mind. Ino still didn’t have the mental strength to deal with that. “I just want you to call and convince her to pick up the phone! How can I apologize if she keeps ignoring me!”

If Ino knew Kiba, which she did, it meant that the idiot let his mind talk without a filter and Ino could only imagine what he had said to offend a girl like Hinata.

She takes pity at the desperate friend, steps inside the elevator and says, “I’ll try but no promises.”

“You're the best Ino!” Kiba cheers, loudly, and Ino has to move the phone away from her ear. “I owe you big.”

“A dinner will be fine.” She hums in thought. “Somewhere of my standards.”

“Noted.”

With a simple goodbye, the call disconnects and Ino stumble inside her apartment. She drags the bags to the kitchen and fills the empty fridge and cupboards. Normally, the blonde wouldn’t have cared but the weather man predicted a small snowstorm and Ino didn’t want to get stuck in her apartment without supplies. Fucking horrid weather. First a thunderstorm than a snowstorm.

With the kitchen full and she in her comfortable pajamas, Ino fulfills her part of the deal with a simple text.

_Hey, Hinata._

The blonde is bemused when there is an instant reply. So, the shy girl is just ignoring the Inuzuka in general and doing a good job at it.

_Ino-san? What is it?_

_I told you to drop the honorific. Just wanted to talk you have time?_

_Give me ten minutes._

Checking the clock Ino realizes that she should start on dinner but she isn’t especially hungry so she just puts water in the cattle for something hot to drink. In seconds she has a mug with two – the secret of perfect hot chocolate is two instead of one – packages of powdered hot chocolate ready, only waiting for the water.

A swift text to Kiba should be enough to calm his panicked state. For good measure – and to avoid his possible pestering - Ino temporarily blocks his number. She is already suffering emotional turmoil and no matter how bitchy and selfish it sounds, Ino can’t handle Kiba’s problems at the moment.

Ino briefly wonders if that makes her a horrible friend. Maybe it does and the thought sits in her stomach.

Her mind is focused on what to prepare for later – food is a great way to escape your problems – when her doorbell rings.  A glance from the kitchen confirms Ino’s thoughts. Snow covered everything, the streets, the buildings, the little park in the corner… nothing was spared from nature’s ruthless attack. And the white kept falling.

A snow storm of this scale is rare in the normally mild seasons of Konoha, so the people aren’t exactly used to such weather. Translation, only an idiot would step a foot outside. So who is at her door?

Another ring, this time accompanied by a timid knock.

Intrigued and armed with a frying pan, Ino half opens the door.

There standing in the doorway is a familiar girl, with the cutest blush across her face. Snowflakes are glistening on her dark blue hair, a rich hand woven scarf is snuggled tightly around her delicate throat and a heavy, brown fur lined cream winter coat is swallowing her petite frame.

“Hinata?” Ino mumbles, a having hard time accepting that the girl is really standing in front of her.  Did the snow penetrate into her brain causing her to see illusions? Somebody should call the hospital; the blonde is having a medical breakthrough.

“Hello.” She gives her a shy smile while politely prying inside the apartment. Her lavender eyes catch the threatening pan but Hinata wisely withholds any comment. 

“How did you?” her words trail off as the blonde keeps her stare focused over her unexpected guest.

Hinata looks sheepish as she answers, “Let’s s-say my cousin might be hating me right now.” 

“I wouldn't blame the guy. Just look at the storm outside. Jesus, Hinata what were you thinking?”

“You texted me.” the Hyuuga casually says, fiddling with her soft scarf. “You wanted to talk, didn't y-you?”

Ino stares at her as if she had grown a second head. “On the phone! I didn’t expect you to just show up in this fucked up weather. Not that’s a bad thing, you're welcomed here… though a warning would have been nice.”

Hinata stands still. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish much to Ino’s amusement. “…That makes sense a-actually.”  She clears her throat, the air turning awkward. Hinata shyly presents a small container, like a peace offering. “I made brownies.”

“ _Makes sens_ – get inside _you dork_. Thank the brownies, I’ll overlook your stupidity this once.”

Ino holds the door open as Hinata slips in. She takes time to take off her muddy-snow covered boots in a gesture Ino finds endearing. Anyone of her usual gang would have just barged in without a second thought about her freshly cleaned timber parquets.

While Hinata gets her layered winter protection off, Ino peers into the bag with the chocolate brownies. She catches the faint aroma of cherries and spun sugar. Hinata’s glance falls on the blonde and she sheepishly adds, “I made them t-this afternoon. They are freshly b-baked.”

At that point, the petite Hyuuga got herself _massive brownie points._

* * *

 

Apparently, Ino learns swiftly, Hinata is very skilled in culinary prospect. A look at the ingredients is enough for the Hyuuga to whip up a simple yet delicious meal. Ino is more than happy to help her new friend and soon her small kitchen is filled with the inviting smell of food and merry chitchatting.

“The miso soup is almost ready.”

“So is the tomato sauce.” Ino jerks her head towards the boiling pot, mentally counting the minutes. “Can you pour the pasta through the strainer? It should be in the second cupboard on your left.”

Following her instructions, Hinata finds the strainer. While the Hyuuga is busy with the pasta, Ino puts down the salad on the marble counter, already adorned with the appropriate cutlery.

Cooking with someone is rather fun, Ino decides. She still thinks that Hinata must be crazy to go out in this weather for a surprise visit, she is glad to have her here. Ino never noticed how silent and lonely her apartment was.

The steaming pot of pasta with tomato sauce joins the table and Hinata sits down, across of the blonde.

The first few bites are eaten in silence as both girls are rather famished, they prefer filling their demanding stomachs than gossip. The howling of the snowstorm outside and the rattling shutters are ominous and both girls are glad to have company instead of the usual loneliness of a Monday night.

Feeling the faint touch of reminiscing, Ino thinks about the many stormy nights back at Zurich. Germany is colder and harsher than Konoha, yet Ino always remembered fondly her visits to her mother’s country. Especially Christmas time with her grandparents.

A small smile graces her lips as she makes a trip down memory lane.

Every Christmas, without fail, they would tour the major Christmas markets. German markets were famous all around the world with the intermittent lights cascading down the walls of the buildings, streetlamps, stalls, sending colors everywhere around. Complicated decorations formed beautiful stars and Christmas trees.

There would always be snow covering the city and the delicate lights and the chattering of people would dance in the air. Hand carved statues, carefully lacquered with gentle strokes would be dotted through the sidewalk.

Her grandmother’s warm hand would tug hers through the bubbling crowd and with a joyous shine in her blue eyes, looking for the best _Glühwein,_ the spicy and hot German drink was still something she dearly missed and couldn’t find in Konoha. Her grandfather –smiling with the cozy way Ino was used to see – would find them, already carrying small knick knacks to take back home and Ino seriously missed those carefree times in a cold country that managed to be so warm.

“Ino?”

Hinata’s harsh voice calls the blonde back to the little kitchen. The raised brow informs her that Hinata has called her name many times before she responded.

“What?”

Hinata’s eyes carefully search hers. “Nothing, you just looked happy.” Then she adds, hushed, “You’ve been staring at the wall, though. I was starting to get worried.”

Ino waves her hand like she was chasing her friend’s worries away. “Just got lost in memories, nothing big. I used to spend Christmas with my grandparents in Germany, though last year I had an important project and the year before my grandma had come down with a nasty flu. You can say that I missed them terribly.”

Hinata hums nonchalantly. She bites her lips as she inquires, “Do you miss Sai-san too?”

Ino closes her eyes and brushes her hand through her curtain of golden bangs. Her light blues rejoins the world as her lungs contradict. That name is something Ino tried to block away since morning because of the feelings it brought with it are intense and raw. It leaves Ino in a daze, this time it’s her heart and common sense fighting, not her heart and brain.

Seeing that Ino is not about to explode with the power of a supernova, Hinata relaxes a bit. “Something happened.”

“Something always happens.” A cold hand lingers on Ino’s throat sending chills down her whole body. She is sure that the faint throbbing on her bicep is nothing but her imagination.

“I have doubts.” She begins, slowly. Ino is surprised that her voice didn’t waver. “Doubts I never thought I’d have. Fuck, I think I'm suffering from a temporary bout of insanity. Hopefully, it’ll wear off before anything bad happens.”

But Ino isn’t that optimistic. Her traitorous heart has its own freaking agenda.

“Some say that love is a disease. It affects your heart and mind, eventually the body, too. If every single person in love was considered mad, Ino, the world would have been a madhouse.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, _people are crazy.”_

“Communication _is_ the key.” Hinata gently reminds her. “Regardless of the complexity of your thought or feelings you must speak with each other and reach an agreement. I believe at the end of the talk you'll feel much better.”

“I know,” Ino admits. “I'm scared, I guess.”

_Scared that I’ll go after my feelings than my own safety. He warned me thousands of times, how much more do I need before shit hits the fan? But it already did, didn’t it? How can someone accept a man knowing that they are a few shades too dark? How can I be attracted to a man that could very well be a murderer?_

Though the ugly thoughts flash in her mind for a second, Ino doesn’t like the taste on her tongue.

The Hyuuga falters for a second; she calmly lets her fork down and looks straight at Ino’s baby blue eyes.

 “Of him?” she asks, unsure what else to say. Hinata is curious but it would be rude to inquire further when her friend was obviously distressed.

The blonde inhales slowly. Ino tries to protest against her feelings, denial ready at the tip of her tongue. She was always aware that Sai wasn’t a saint sent from the heavens and she had an inkling that the tattooist also had some fingers in some dangerous matters. Yet, that didn’t stop her. “Of the truth.”

Hinata tilts her head as if trying to put her thoughts in order. “You know Ino; being scared isn’t something to be ashamed of. Being scared means you're about to do something really brave or somehow stupid.”

“Were you scared when you left home?”

A broken smile settles on the Hyuuga’s face. Her voice is small and solemn when she says, “Terrified. Absolutely terrified.”

“Which one was it? I mean, leaving your house, was it something really brave or something stupid?” 

The broken smile turns wistful. “I don’t know yet. It has its advantages as it has its disadvantages. Sometimes the balance between them gets even or the scales get so far away from each other that it seems hopeless. Only time will tell if I made the right choice.”

“You're willing to bet on the unknown?” Ino considers it for a moment and then shakes her head dubiously. “I don’t know if I can do that.” 

“There is if in life, Ino. Sometimes possibilities are all we have, not that they have to be bad or even good. We give those labels, which means we have the power to control them.”

Ino finally laughs for the first time since that rainy day. It’s rich and heartfelt and the echoing wave of happiness seems as a getaway for the bottled up emotions. “You have a good head on your shoulders Hinata. God, I wish I had met you sooner.” Or bothered to look for a true friend instead of letting Sakura poison her views.

“Now that my nonexistent love life is out of the way. It’s your turn Hinata-chan, what did my idiot friend do?” Ino retorts cheerfully. She is done with her problems for the moment and the gossiper in her is rather curious how Kiba managed to fuck up this time. Not that he has to try very hard, the Inuzuka has a natural talent.

Hinata blinks. Her voiced is as blank as her face. “I'm not sure who you're talking about.”

Ino rolls her eyes. “Oh really?”

Hinata remains silent. A stubborn tilt in her chin tells her that she didn’t plan on speaking about Kiba anytime soon.

“There is a saying in German that I think sums up Kiba nicely.” The blonde begins. She is careful to keep her tone light, almost bordering silly. _“Herr, wirf Hirn vom Himmel! Oder Steine Hauptsache er trifft.”_

Hinata grudgingly inclined her head, curiosity taking over her previous state gone. “And the translation?”

“Lord, throw some brains from the heavens or stones as long as he hits the mark.”

Ino can see how Hinata bit her lips to contain her laughter. She internally counts down to three. Soft, mirthful giggles escape her lips and Ino brazenly pats her shoulder, supporting a sly smirk. Glad about lifting her friend’s spirit a little Ino takes a sip of water and lick her lips.

“I don’t know how to put this nicely, so I won’t,” Ino says, twirling her fork in the air. “Kiba is blunt, short-tempered, gets into many fights, and impulsive. He has these stupid pickup lines that should never work but somehow they do.”

“But he’s also fiercely loyal, prideful and cares deeply for his friends. You can always count on him. So whatever he had said he probably didn’t mean it. The idiot doesn’t have any filter between his mouth and thoughts.”

Hinata nods, a knowing glint shining in her lavender eyes. Her body is relaxed and exasperated fondness rolls of in waves in her tone when she declares, “I know, Ino, believe me, I know.”

She inhales deeply and starts to tell her first encounter with Kiba and how it developed into one of the strangest friendships ever.

Ino also notices that since entering the kitchen Hinata hasn’t stuttered once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And cut!
> 
> Well, this is finally out of the way :D I know the chapters so far are very emotion heavy but worry not, I also have some action and some fluff planned!
> 
> A small list of the next chapter;
> 
> Hinata and Kiba’s hilarious bro-dude moments. Its gonna be a little Hinata heavy.
> 
> And a small omake about Sai and Ino bra shopping.
> 
> Please review on your way out and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	7. The Girl and The Boy

Shows up to fanfiction months later with Starbucks in hand. ~~I don’t even like Starbucks.~~

* * *

 

Hinata’s life is ordinary as it can get with fixed dates and hours she lives by. She has classes and she has her part-time work at the small cozy café near campus, just about a five minute walk away. Working even in the weekends, Hinata weasels in her homework time between after-class before-work time period. She is an excellent student, no drinking and no smoking, her assignments are always turned in in time. So most of the time, the teachers leave the keys to the workshops at her capable hands. As long as she cleans up any mess made by her the teachers turn a blind eye.

She especially likes to work Friday nights. Her shift is in the morning and she only has advanced charcoal sketches in the afternoon so the rest of the evening is hers. Most students are busy attending parties fit for a Friday night but Hinata isn’t most students. Even if she can afford to take time out of work/school, she doesn’t have someone to go with. Classmates invite her sometimes, out of necessity politeness, but Hinata always kindly declines.

She knows she won’t fit in and she also knows whoever had invited her would disappear the moment they entered the wild, drunken, gathering of college students.

So Hinata works. A burgundy apron secured tightly over her cream blouse-purple skirt combo and her favorite brush in hand, she lets her hand dance over the easel. Practice makes it perfect and that’s pretty much what Hinata always does. Between shifts, waiting in line at the store, travelling in the bus, while eating lunch, across the TV, her worn sketchbook is just within her reach.

Time passes slowly while Hinata paints. She is making the final touches to her work; a half moon is hanging at a cloudy sky while gentle waves are brushing the abandoned shores of a tropical beach. The main focus of her painting is the youthful siren sitting on a rock and enjoying the night breeze. Her hair is long enough to cover her bare chest and it’s the color of liquid moonlight, and there are dark colored beads adorning her swaying strands.  The long and powerful tail is a whirlwind of mauve, violet, amethyst and lilac, casually curled over the moss-covered rock.

Adding navy into cobalt, Hinata darkens the shade. She wants her waves to contrast with the dark starless night and maybe have a hint of green in them, so with a mix of pine-seaweed-basil, Hinata twirls the colors together.  Capturing the movement is her goal, constantly swirling, mixing and mingling the colors spread across the canvas.    

Brush in hand she almost pokes her eyes out, stopping the wooden stick a breath away from the unsuspecting eye. Her left eye is slightly itchy and Hinata had left her box of contact lenses home. She can’t afford to buy a new case and that means not scrubbing and getting _paint_ in her eyes. 

She will die of embarrassment if she has to go to the hospital _again_ for the same _reason_. 

Hinata is proud of this one. The tail took her almost a week and a half – choosing the colors, blending them right, and find the right pattern – the rest wasn’t as much as challenging-

“Hinata? You're still up here?”

Expecting to be alone, Hinata jumps, almost knocking her canvas down in fright. Panicked hands reach and steady the still wet-painted-siren. Luckily, nothing is smeared or ruined.

While Hinata tries to control her erratically beating heart, Mr Cornwell had approached her from behind. Hinata is still perched on her little stool when the professor puts his old, wrinkled hands over her shoulders.

“I apologize, Hinata. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The tone is gentle and fatherly, as Hinata remembers him to be and would not be so weird if he hadn’t breathed the words into her ear. Middle-aged with balding grey hair, Mr Cornwell isn’t Hinata’s favorite teacher. He seems way too nice for once, his wire-framed glasses are too big for his round face and something about his polite smile bothers Hinata immensely.

Still, he is a professor and Hinata has nothing to back up the uncomfortable nagging in her gut. Under the guise of a nod, she scoots away in her tiny stool. The hands on her shoulders are heavy.

Steadily, something coils in her stomach. Something that could only be described as _dread_. Like a snake, it curls in her core, tightening with each passing second. Her hands are cold and her brow furrows with a fresh bout of anxiety. The oxygen levels in the little workshop seemingly drop.

“Your drawing could need a bit more refinement but the color matchup is done fairly well.” Hinata unintentionally soaks in the praise, faintly blushing. For all his creepiness, Mr Cornwell is a talented man and maybe Hinata shouldn’t be so swift to judge the poor ma-

“Is this the hand you draw with? Such a youthful talent you have Hinata. Polite, talented, hardworking -” her left shoulder is liberated only for Mr Cornwell to capture her cold hand. The skin is rough and aged and smells of paint. Hinata wants to get away but she is frozen in place, her heartbeat deafening her ears. “And very pretty.”

It had started as a childish belief. Growing up shy and unwanted, Hinata had done her best to stay out of the way of her family members, acting as if she wasn’t in the room, frozen in place even fearing to breathe. If she’d stay unmoving her father wouldn’t notice her. If she’d stayed quiet the glares and venomous words won’t affect her.

If I'm not a threat they’ll leave me alone.

If I don’t fight back, father won’t hit me.

If I don’t scream and cry mother won’t be sad in heaven.

It’s that instinct deeply rooted in her core that keeps her glued to her stool, frozen and silent. The pressure on her hand increases momentarily, then it moves under her apron to her thigh while the other hand slides closer to her pale neck. The pad of Mr Cornwell’s thumb slides inside her collar and Hinata’s jaw tenses for a scream that will never leave her lips.

Her whole body trembles, tunnel vision taking hold but words fail her. The coiling dread takes a sharper edge as the sick feeling threatens to turn her stomach. Liquid heat stings at her eyes and she can’t shake off the iron hold of the professor. For an old man, he’s especially strong.

 _Is this really happening?_ _It can’t be._ _Not like this. Never like this._

Horror, pure undiluted horror, bubbles up her throat and passes her clammy lips. Instead of blood curling screaming, pitiful whimpers came out. Mr Cornwell laughs, his mint scented breathing brushing her sweaty neck. He’s enjoying her little panic attack.

“N-n-o, p-pleas-se.” Her voice wavers under her choked up a stutter.

Another laugh, Hinata feels Mr Cornwell’s chest vibrate at her back. “Sweet little Hinata, don’t you know that every _no_ is an uncultivated _yes.”_

The dam breaks. She is _scaredscaredscared-_  

“Oh Doll, there you are. I’ve got lost looking for you.”

Both turn at the unexpected visitor, Mr Cornwell annoyed, Hinata teary-eyed. At the door stands tall and proud a young man. Wild and messily spiked dark hair, eyes like liquid amber, and red triangle tattoos over his cheeks, Hinata recognizes Kiba Inuzuka easily. 

“Who are you?” spats the teacher, enraged to be interrupted.

Kiba flashes a smile, all teeth and snark. “Hello. I'm your local asshole.” He winks at Hinata, who can’t help but crack a small, relieved smile at the absurdity and the look on her molester’s face. The tunnel vision fades.

“You aren’t of the Art department, leave now.”

“No can do.” Kiba sings. “Sorry to burst your _fun_ evening – ”a dangerous glint is hidden under the merry tone. That fanged grin could cut steel should it sharpen more. “- but I have business with Doll. So, teach, if you could prey on defenceless girls half your age another time, that’d be great.”

Mr Cornwell grits his teeth and glares at Kiba who is smirking unabashedly. Hinata’s own wide eyes are locked with molten gold, under his presence her legs work again and Hinata springs to her feet. She grabs her bag throwing it over her shoulder, then, her brushes and paints are shoved inside her tool bag.

Head down in shame, Hinata sprints towards the door. When she is by his side Kiba leans towards her petite frame while his gaze is still locked with the angry prof. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Wait up outside, Doll, I’ll be there in 5 minutes. And if anyone asks, tell them you're _outstanding_.”

Hinata manages a forced nod and flees. The pun barely registers in her frenzied mind.

* * *

 

True to his words, Kiba walks leisurely out of the workshop after 5 minutes. His hands are locked behind his neck and he is whistling a popular country song that keeps replaying on the radio every two hours.

He stops in front of Hinata, who still has her head down her pale face. She rubbed away the tears in the little time she had and her breathing turned considerably shallower. Hinata also had time to think through on what happened. 

Kiba and she aren’t friends, really, she knows the young man because he is always around Naruto-

“Well, Doll, that was pathetic. You let that geezer feel you up without a single, whiny protest. Could’ve at least demand payment or somethin.” The gruff voice brings her to reality.  Although the words are blunt and rude, Kiba’s amber eyes hold warmth. She takes in the rudely veiled teasing with a cough.

“T-thank y-you, Kiba-s-san.” It’s a bad time to stutter but Hinata turns a blind eye and blames her tense nerves. Really, 5 minutes isn’t enough to calm down.

Kiba waves her apology away like swatting a fly. “No need to be polite with me Doll. Not ma style.”

“Uhm…D-doll?”

Kiba clears his throat awkwardly and very pointedly avoids looking at Hinata. He almost looks apologetic for some reason… is that tinge of red at the tip of his ears from embarrassment? Maybe Hinata was seeing things. The lightning is kinda bad at this hour.

“I don’t remember your name,” Kiba admits, scratching his neck.

“Oh. Uhm… Hinata.”

The fanged boy clicks his tongue. “I still prefer Doll, suits you the best.” Kiba declares and he’s smirking confidently again. Hinata blinks swiftly, did she imagine it perhaps?

The young man stops abruptly in the middle of the abandoned hall and curses colorfully. “Shit, fuck, hell! I _fucking_ forgot!”

“…Kiba-san?”

Kiba’s strong fingers grab her by her arms. Moments before, she was in a similar situation but, instead, the one deadly pale with large fear-full eyes is Kiba and not her. He looks close to having a heart attack. “You're an Art student.”

“…y-yes?”

“You know your way around the department?”

“…y-yes!” squeaking the reply, Hinata watches Kiba smile like a little boy.

“Can you take me to the workshop where they sew stuff?”

Hinata nods, face aflame as Kiba’s grin widens. She is almost afraid of the answer why he’d need to be in the sewing workshop this late. Taking lead with Kiba trailing after her, Hinata takes him down the corridor, takes a left and then another left again and stops in front of an oak door. Kiba salutes her with his fingers.

“Cover me Doll, I'm going in.”

He leaves her standing, and as if in a spy movie he creeps inside the dark workshop in his tiptoes.  Her duty as a guide complete, Hinata could leave but she doesn’t. The halls seem a tad bit darker and a lot lonelier. Kiba shows up a few minutes later anyway, holding a stylish red leather handbag as if it belonged to some royalty and his task was to protect it to his last dying breath.

Feeling her confused stare Kiba throws in a hasty explanation. “It’s Ino’s, not mine. Red leather isn’t ma choice, not that I would buy one if it was black or sometin. Wouldn’t have bothered snooping for a fucking bag also, but apparently, she has her super-secret-under-CIA-protected designs in it. Also, she’d nag me till dawn.” He shakes his head, exasperated but fond.

“Ah.”

“Mission accomplished, then.” He fiddles with the bag in his hand while giving her sideways glance.

They both turn away, heading towards the marble stairs at the end of the corridor. Going down two floors, Hinata turns to left pushing the fire exit door, crosses over the little courtyard through the wooden gazebo and at the corner of the aged building she turns left again ending up in the main entrance of the Arts and Crafts Department. 

“Keep away from pervy grandpas.”

“Y-yes. I’ll t-try.” Hinata squeaks. She’s doing that an awful a lot lately. “Uhm… T-thanks.”

Kiba shrugs. Daring to look up, Hinata sees him relaxed. The glaringly red bag is tucked under his arm with his slumped shoulders giving an indifferent air to him. His lazy smirk grows when he catches her sneaking glances. His golden eyes look even brighter under the moonlit parking lot.

Any other day, Hinata would’ve long twisted her attention away; however, Kiba easily ensnares her. Or maybe Hinata is the one who captures his gaze, refusing to let go. Kiba’s words ring inside her head.

He found the bag. The mission is accomplished. There is no reason for them to stay together anymore. This is the point where everyone goes their separate ways.

The wind blows, messing both their hairs and stings her tearstained cheeks. She almost rubbed them raw but the cold manages to dig up the remains. Hinata clenches her fists so hard, she might break the skin. She doesn’t want to walk back to her apartment, alone, completely and utterly alone.

There is no guarantee she’ll keep it together to her apartment either.

Maybe she could drop by the café? An extra helping hand in a Friday night is always welcomed and work always took Hinata’s mind away from overdriving itself. Also, the café will provide human contact, company she secretly craves but vehemently denies it because – 

A loud, hungry growl takes her by surprise and at the same time reminds her where she is. With _whom_ she is.

Kiba is still standing there, with her, and still looking at her, eyebrows raised and a pointy canine poking his lower lip. He tries to hold in his laughter by biting down harder but his shoulders are shaking with the strength of a mini-hurricane.

Hinata literally dozed off while staring at the young man and her cheeks burn all the way to her ears.

Is it possible to die of embarrassment? If not Hinata could be the first ever registered case.

Kiba’s golden-hazel eyes run over her petite frame. “When was the last time you ate, Doll?”

“…”

“Right.” He shakes his head with a chuckle and turns away. Hinata tries hard not to take it personally but – a painful pang goes through her heart.

“Hey!” The Inuzuka’s long legs have already carried him halfway through the empty road when he shouts at her. “Speed up before I leave you behind.”

“Behind?”

Kiba shakes his head. He is wearing a small, knowing smile and Hinata lowers her eyes to his chest. Her cheeks feel warmer but she refuses to look up into his smoldering topaz eyes. She’ used to speaking to people without looking at their eyes, it’s a habit she gained as a child and never really managed to break out of.

“It’s dinner time.”

That snaps her head up. “D-dinner? Why?”

Kiba turns his head to look over his shoulder, a challenging wild smirk splitting his face. Somehow he finds something overly amusing, and he laughs. “You're hungry, aren’t you? I’m taking you out for dinner.”

“Ah, Kiba-san y-you don’t h-have too.”

She winces at her own meek voice. As if possible her shoulders sag even more and Hinata feels herself half of her own height. Her lavender eyes glued to her black flats and she blinks repeatedly at the familiar sting. When was the last time she changed her contacts?

“Girlz would claw each other for a night with me, so you kinda lucked out. Don’t break my heart, _Doll_ , just say yes.” Kiba winked playfully while cupping his chest dramatically. “And drop the _san_. I'm too hot and young to be addressed politely.”

Hinata should be outraged at the endearment of her name, but it seems it’s something Kiba would do and no amount of persuasion will make him back down. Also, Hinata lets it slide as Kiba did save her from an uncomfortable situation.

“Curry?”

“S-sure.” Hinata mouth moves and she has answered before she was aware. Well, eating curry with the infamous bad boy of the campus can’t hurt, right?

* * *

 

That’s what she thinks until Kiba stops in front of a sleek, shiny Harley.  Hinata doesn’t get cars or bikes but even she could tell that the engine was built for speed.

“Meet my baby, Betsy. Hinata, Betsy. Betsy, Hinata.” Kiba shoves the red bag inside a barrel-shaped leather bag secured to the side. With practiced ease, he swings his leg over the bike and turns towards her with a raised brow. “Coming?”

Hinata swallows hard, her nerves are tightly knotted. “I've, uhm, never before…” she gestures the deadly looking machine, hoping she doesn’t look as lost as she feels she is. “I just…”

Kiba rolls his shoulders and puffs his chest up. “You aren’t the first girl who had their _first_ _ride_ with me. I could even make a list out of it.” His voice drips with amusement as he wiggles his brows at her and, in Hinata’s ears; there is no mistake what he suggests.

A cold fear clenches her inside and Hinata’s blush intensifies, however, this time, it’s not of embarrassment but anger. Angry enough that her vision wavers like steam rising from a volcano.

“I certainly will not add my name to that list then, Kiba- _san_.” In her mind, Hinata is standing tall, eyes hard and voice firm but the reality isn’t what her imagination makes up. Her shoulders are hunched defensively, eyes stingingly puffy and her voice is above a whisper but at least loud enough to be heard in the deserted parking lot.

The day isn’t going to be any better anyway, and even if it’s extremely rude, would have left her mortified another day when she isn’t bone-deep-tired, Hinata turns her back and briskly walks away.

At least, tries to.

The roaring engine echoes as Kiba’s bike swerves in front of her, halting her steps and cutting her off. A flick kills the purring engine leaving the silence paint the night. “Hinata, shit, I'm sorry okay? I didn’t mean it that way, really, it was just a pun. Fuck, Ino always tells me to think before I speak, but it’s so fucking hard to filter sometimes. Shit, I'm so sorry that I hope to make it up by buying dinner?” he lamely finishes, lips pouting.

Hinata crosses her arms over her chest and tries not to be swayed by the pouting lip and puppy dog eyes thrown her way. He seems sorry, Hinata begrudgingly admits in the safety of her mind. She is good at being a judge of character, a Hyuuga trait that passed down in the family history along with light-sensitive eyes.  

Doesn’t take long for her already fragile shield to break apart.   

 “…If I say yes,” she carefully weights her words, adding and scratching in her mind as she continues, thankfully stutter-free. “Just dinner – not, not the things you're used to doing with girls… I'm not like that, I'm not saying yes because I want to - to…”

“Got the message, Doll,” Kiba interrupts and Hinata is glad she doesn’t have to finish her sentence. Her face is warm enough already and she wonders where her one-minute-courage holed itself, she could have used it some more.

“No kinkiness, unless you specifically ask for it.”

How he manages to distract her from her own feelings, Hinata doesn’t know. The soul-deep terror freezing her body in the workshop, her insecurities weighing down her delicate shoulders, adrenaline-fueled heartbeats making her dizzy and the hot momentarily temper giving her tunnel vision. Each time Kiba just barges uninvited with a rich laugh and even a richer vocabulary, successfully distracting her from her own demons.

It’s not every day she gets an invitation to dinner from a boy. Hinata knows that she is considered pretty and her last name brings in more attention than she wants or desires.

Accepting would mean eating dinner, _alone_ , with the infamous, blunt and loud Kiba Inuzuka who also happened to be quite exotically good-looking.

“Just dinner.”

The answering smirk flashes his white teeth, mischief tempered by the playful twitch of his lips. “Scout Promise.”

* * *

 

The ride isn’t the type of dangerous heart attack that Hinata expects. Kiba drives relatively slow and doesn’t take sharp turns to jostle her. The feeling of the rumbling engine between her legs leaves her face momentarily pink under the heavy helmet but it isn’t entirely unpleasant. Her pale hands are clutched tightly to his leather-clad shoulders tight enough to bruise and maybe it’s the strength of her death-grip that puts Kiba under the speeding limit.

Way too soon, he pulls over to a small family owned Indian restaurant and Hinata can smell the rich spices even with her head covered completely by the helmet.

Kiba swings his leg over, stands up and offers her his hand. With a frivolous bow, “M’lady.”

With the hand not occupied by her helmet, Hinata shyly takes his hand and tries to ignore the charming boyish smile.

_He doesn’t even try to be charming. He is just naturally pulling people his way._

“L-lead the way.”

The curry is surprisingly delicious and beer isn’t a bad choice to go along the dish. Kiba speaks a mile a minute and Hinata is eagerly listening to the boy while politely not looking his way. It’s awfully intimate – feels like almost a date, sharing a dinner just the two of them. For this single night, Hinata will play make-believe, she had decided while she was riding his bike, yet breaking habits are not easy.

So she orders her third beer. The first was for her dried throat and the second was gone even before halfway through her curry.  Kiba doesn’t say anything about it, just matches her drink for drink.

 “Ah, Doll, girlz love my lines. They always fall for my devilish charms at the end of the night.”

Hinata cocks her head to the side, her tongue gets looser and stutter-free with each glass. “Impossible. No woman in her right mind would let herself swoon with cheesy lines.”

“ _Cheesy lines?_ Now I'm hurt, Doll.” The smirk he gives is nothing but _hurt_. “I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.”

Hinata just raises her beer with on hand while the other goes up, over her head for the simple bow and tugs it lose. At once, a heavy mass of dark purple hair falls over her shoulders and she sighs with relief.

Kiba winds his long fingers through his mane-of-a-hair and smirks. “Wanna arrange the alphabet so U and I are together?”

“That’s pretty lame.”

The Inuzuka doesn’t give up. “Your ears are red from the cold, maybe you should warm them between my thighs.”

“That’s creepy bordering rude.” Still, due to the crudeness Hinata unintentionally blushes. Kiba keeps firing away.

“Are you from France? Cuz ma _dam._ ”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Hinata shakes her head, a giggle bubbling up her throat. “These were all evenly awful. No girl in her right mind would willingly follow you after hearing any of that!”

“But they do!” Kiba swings his hand at himself. “Everyone wants a piece of me, _doll_.” The winks at her. “It’s the part of my charm, you see. Charming ladies with my tongue is my strong point.”

“You're lucky you're easy to the eyes, Kiba-san. Otherwise, your so-called charming lines wouldn’t snare even one woman for company.” The words leave her mouth before she can’t stop. Hinata stills on her small stool and from under her bangs stealthy glances at her dinner-mate.

Kiba’s mouth hangs open, eyes wide. “Is that your way of saying I'm attractive?” the smirk returns full-blown power and Hinata swears her blush goes down all the way to her _chest._

“I have no memory of such thing.”

_“Sure.”_

“I deny everything.” She tries to save herself but just gets sucked deeper into quicksand. “It’s the alcohol. I – I usually don’t drink -”

Laughter cuts her tirade off. “Don’t sweat it, Doll, just teasing you. You're cute when you blush.” He adds with a playful wink.

“I'm not cute,”  Hinata argues, fiddling with her empty glass for distraction.

“What, don’t like cute? Then, you're beautiful.”

Hinata’s glass slips from her twitching fingers and she catches it at the last minute. “Don't- don’t say it so casually!”

“Why not? You're a pretty chick; I say it as I see it. Don’t act like no one has ever called you beautiful.” Kiba rolls his eyes as he leans back in his chair. Hinata keeps her head down, face awfully warm, she feels the heavy gaze of Kiba on her head.

“ _For_ _real?”_ Kiba exclaims, the manager is shooting daggers at their table and looks like he is restraining himself from kicking them out. “What kind of half-assed guys have you dated?”

“I don’t have time for romance.” Hinata bitterly admits, for a second her mind wanders back to her possible arranged marriage candidates but she shakes her head clear. Tonight is not the time to reminisce the unwanted past.

She knows she is a pretty girl, Hinata guesses. The Hyuuga genes gave her aristocratic features and she was lucky enough to have her mother’s figure that said to draw lots of attention on her youth –also her fathers, she had heard once her grandmother say – also working in a café near campus let her gain many catcalls and whistles from college boys. Though, no one had said it so genuinely like Kiba.

“Well, screw guys.” Kiba reaches over the table and ruffles her hair until Hinata yelps and looks up, meeting his warm amber gaze. “And you should totally take my word for it, cuz I'm a guy and all. This means I can have your undivided attention on me at all times without worrying about competition.”

“Your attention?”

Kiba must have seen something on her face that softens his eyes. Hinata’s breath hitches in her lungs. He looks younger with his kinder eyes and soft smile but he I still Kiba with his wild hair and exotic tattoos.

“Congrats Doll-chan, you’ve been given the privilege of entering my ‘the girls I can hang out with without having them drool on me and ruin my night’ category.”

“…Thanks?”

“No probs.” Kiba winks at her once again. Hinata’s head spins and she is sure the beer has nothing to do with her current state.

Strange how much Hinata is enjoying the evening. Kiba is crude, awfully blunt, and lives the moment without a single worry for tomorrow. He is lewd, wild and also has the funniest stories. Hinata is suspicious of their reality but she still laughs, blushes and speaks back.

It’s… nice.

“-And that’s how we ended up in jail for the night. Had to call Ino to bail me and Shika out. She never lets me forget that one.” Kiba grins wider. “If ya ask the Shika _man_ he’ll say _‘all I heard was Kiba saying I swear it will be funny and then we were in jail.’_ It’s a classic, tho his mom didn’t quite believe it.”

Hinata starts to laugh, it’s rich and deep. It’s not common for her to laugh this much in such a short amount of time, but Kiba easily manages somehow bring a smile on her face. Her cheeks hurt but Hinata doesn’t care.

“I like tipsy-doll.” Kiba declares, taking a full swing from his beer, finishing it all. “With a little bit of alcohol and you don’t stutter anymore… or speak admiring my shoes.”

“…Sorry.”

Kiba heaves a heavy sigh. “Doll, _stop_ , I didn’t say it so you’d _apologize_. Speak your mind, just cause you bow your head doesn’t mean people will ignore you. Don't let anyone have that sort of power over you, you're a brilliant woman, show them their place.”

The words hit close to home and Hinata quiets down. For the first time, in that evening, she raises her gaze to meets his full on and asks, “Why did you invite me out for dinner, Kiba-san?”

“Eyes.”

“…My eyes?”

Kiba shrugged scratching his chin, he said, “They seemed lonely and sad. Thought was a shame cuz they are very pretty.” He coughed. Hinata imagined his cheeks a faint pink, though the rich red tattoo hid the coloring well. “Anyway, didn’t think you’d want to be by yourself after – after – _that,_ and food always makes me happier, thought I’d work with you too… did it?”

Hinata’s expression softens and grateful smile curls her lips. “It did. Thank you, Kiba-san.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, “Stop with the honorifics!”

“Never.”

Kiba snorts playfully. “I've been rubbing off you.”

Hinata tips her glass until she empties her sixth beer. “You say it like it’s an awful thing.”

“And that’s exactly why we are going to hang out more.”

* * *

 

“I’ll see you home, it’s getting pretty late.”

“I can take care of myself, Kiba-san –”

“Hey! Drop the _san_!”

Hinata pats herself on the back when she manages to keep her face straight against his annoyed pout. Kiba can be a big man-child when he wants to be, Hinata decides and it’s strange that she finds it _charming_.

It’s the beer, Hinata is sure of it now. She isn’t drunk, not at all, just blissfully tipsy. She can walk and talk, the slight swaying and ache behind her temples can be ignored.

“You don’t need to go out of your way to leave me at my apartment.”

“Bullshit. The streets aren’t safe at nights, especially for pretty chicks.” Seeing the stubborn tilt of Hinata’s chin, Kiba chances tactics. Usually giving compliments worked and Kiba expects her to blush and avoid his gaze, but with a couple of drinks, Hinata seems to gain a backbone of unrelenting steel. “If you let me drop you off and I’ll owe you a favor, how about that? It can be anything you wish.”

“It seems unfair towards you.” She argues. Her jaw aches for a yawn but Hinata holds it in. It’s rude and un-lady-like. “You can’t know what I might ask of you. Might even regret giving me this much leeway.”

“That’s what makes life fun, doll, the trill of the unknown.  Also, you don’t have a single mean bone in your body, you probably can’t dish out something outrageous that I haven’t done before.” The challenge is there, in the curve of his lips and vibrant amber of his eyes.

She takes the offered helmet and successfully wears it on the first try. “I shall hold you on that, then.”

Kiba winks at her one last time and flicks the helmet’s screen closed. As she carefully gets on the bike she murmurs her address to his ear. His leather jacket is warm and smells like pinewood, without realizing it, Hinata is burying her nose into the collar while her arms snake around his torso. Kiba isn’t driving fast, even if he is, Hinata doesn’t care, she’s content where she is.

The ride is over before she can blink.

“Here we are, Doll. Thank you for riding with Inuzuka wheels, we are always available for future use. Just ask for the dashing driver and we’ll make sure he is ready for service.”

 Hinata raises her head, her pale green apartment is right in front of her. “Oh, I'm home.” She slowly untangles herself from Kiba. The Inuzuka helps her get off, his grip steadying on her upper arms.

“Thank you for the ride –” it lacks, the generosity isn’t enough. “and the dinner, and the company and-”

“Got it Doll, no need to get your panties in a twist. Was my pleasure, believe it.” He leans on the handles of his bike. “Now, off you go. I’ll stay until you enter.”

Hinata nods, her blush darker in the night and she sways towards the stairs.

“Hey Doll!”

She half-turns to look over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“Got something…” Kiba waves his hand towards her, lips twitching with the effort not to smirk. “You have something on your ass.”

“What?” she squeaks high-pitched and undignified. “What is it?” Hinata pats her hand on her bottom, trying to erase a stain that isn’t there.

“My eyes.”

Hinata’s hand stops mid-swipe and not even the lively howling like laugh unfreezes her. Slowly, and very deliberately she looks up, meeting Kiba’s amused amber eyes – even more bright and captivating under the lights of his bike. “Oh, I will get you back for that one,” Hinata swears. She is surprised to find it that she _means it._

“Can’t wait for it, Doll.”

* * *

 

“So the block-head actually managed to do something nice. Being prince charming on the black motorbike and taking you out for dinner. This doesn’t explain the war between Kiba and your voicemail, though.” Ino drawls, cutting the Hyuuga off.

28 messages… oh. Make it 32.Hinata tosses her phone to the sofa, ignoring the blinking blue light at the corner of the device signalling another received text.

“So even the shy cute Hinata can hold grudges.”

“It's not a grudge,” she whines half-hearted. “It just frustrates me how he doesn't understand.” At the flat look of the blonde, Hinata sighed, she’ll have to cut the story short for another time.

“We started to hang out since then, he’d drop by the café I work and eat half tray worth of brownies. It’s been a little over a month but Kiba proved himself as a sensible and valuable friend. He…he makes me feel braver and like I could overcome any obstacle.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale. That painting of yours, it was inspired by your interactions.” Hinata nods. “What’s the problem, then?”

“My family.” Any other would have spit out the words like a lowly curse but Hinata is too dignified, she just grits out, eyes cold and shoulders stiff. “Father tried to contact me back, I ignored every attempt. Kiba thinks that I should give them a chance because they are family and they want what’s best for me, but they do not! They want what’s best for the _family,_ my happiness is of no importance in the great big picture.”

Ino slides closer to the shaking girl and hugs her close. Hinata sniffs once, twice and takes a deep breath. Once she is sure she won’t cry, Ino hesitantly adds her own two cents.

“I wouldn't expect much. Inuzuka's always been a close-knit family. They don't abandon their own and certainly don't treat their members like dirt. Kiba grew up in an environment where a family is considered above everything. While he might get pissed at their treatment towards you, Kiba will believe the importance of family bonds exceed all the bullshit they had put you through.”

The Hyuuga’s head falls down and she cradles her face. Frustration haunts her expression as she groans, “Hearing all this, I don't think there is anything I can do.”

“You could talk about it.” Ino shrugs, swatting away a blonde sidelock from her face. Her hair was getting ridiculously long and difficult to take care of maybe it was time for a much-needed haircut. “It won’t be always easy speaking with Kiba – God knows how he drives me up the walls sometimes – and that ass has his own dead-set ideas and beliefs. He probably thinks you could work it out with your shitty folks and not trying hard enough. If you want to make the point cross through that thick skull you’ll have to convince him.”

“It feels like Kiba doesn’t trust my word. The way he treated the issue… I wasn’t happy there, haven’t been for the longest of times. Father forbid me of my dream and passion while forcing me through pointless and boring duties of a wife-to-be. I was trusted to the role of a future political connection, Ino, like an object to exchange and birth the next child hoping for a boy because my worth as a wife would have been useless without producing a proper male heir.”

Ino reaches for her. She cradles her amber painted nails around Hinata’s trembling ones. Pushing the hands away reveals watered eyes and a crooked hiccup.

“I can’t say I understand that, Hinata.” Ino wills her voice lower yet firm. She wants Hinata to listen, and yet at the same time, not push on her high strung nerves. A misstep and Hinata might fall apart on her lavender couch. “We all face our own obstacles and find our own solutions. It might not sit well with everyone but it is our choice, our path, and our life. Stand firmly for what you believe.”

Hinata lets the word sink in and just the uttered support lifts the weight pushing her shoulders down. She straightens her aching spine, palms her cheeks clean of tears and smiles.

“You're absolutely correct, Ino.” Ino pats her back when Hinata’s tone raises a pinch. “I almost lost sight of where I was going or what I wanted. Kiba challenged my resolve and I didn’t even realize. He just,-”

Hinata takes one of the brownies from the table, turning it between her fingers a few times she bites her lips. Ino raises her eyebrows at the nervousness but doesn’t comment on it. She learned from their brief encounters that Hinata is not to be pushed. She likes to weight her words, think through her sentences, sort out her emotions and decide the best way. Giving her time is the way to handle her.

“I'd hate to sound rude or chasing after rumors, but what exactly happened between you, Sakura-san and Uchiha-san.”

“Urgh.” Ino's nose churns up. That's quite the rollercoaster of a tale that needs dessert, wine and heavenly aid for patience. “I don’t want feelings, I want new clothes.”

Hinata’s lips twitch into a small smile. “I'm afraid that a crazy shopping spare will have to wait.” Her eyes glance towards the window, the unexpected blizzard is going full power and covering everything in a thick layer of white.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the subtle change of topic.” Baby blue eyes fall down at her hands then at Hinata's. “I'll get my nail set, too, so we can become pretty while bitching. _Verdammt._ I hope those brownies have some alcohol in them.” The blonde winks and hops to her feet to get her manicure set while Hinata fetches the cherry brownies she brought.

* * *

 

The Bra shopping omake

“You have had ripped my favorite bra, Sai and now you'll pay for a new one. You'll help me chose, right?” Ino flutters her lashes prettily, getting closer to the counter towards the unfazed pale man.

“I will take responsibility,” Sai tells her, serious like a soldier given an order and that’s all Ino needs to hear.

A glance up, very nearly though her lashes and she gives Sai a sly, secretive smile. “Wonderful, let’s go shopping!”

And that’s how the unsightly duo found themselves inside Victoria Secret, Ino happily bouncing on her heels, going from display to display like a whirlwind and Sai silently follows her.

Every color or model that catches her eye ends up in her ever-growing pile and her baby-blue eyes glow with every fabric she snatches. Swiftly, she makes a direct line to the VIP changing rooms. Sai walks past her and open the heavy velvet curtain for her.

It’s just like Sai, to be such a gentleman and Ino feels just a tiny bit guilty for the torture she will put him through. Just for a second.

“Sit here,” she all but shoves him to the plush armchair. “I’ll need all the comments I get.” With a wink, she disappears behind the smaller set of curtains.

Her first choice is something fancy and the cut is rather classic a whole set of – bra, panties, stocking and garter belt – it has a rich color of gold and crimson-red. Her battle armor on, Ino steps outside.

Sai’s dark eyes go up and then down and then up again. Ino’s smirk grows as she – “The gold dims your hair color.”

…What… that’s not – Ino didn’t expect –

One glance in the mirror confirms the black-haired man’s words and Ino whirls back inside her luxurious cage, unaware of the amused twitch of Sai’s lips.

Sai isn’t a fashionable guy; maybe he preferred something more sporty? She easily picks a set that reminds her of sporty comfortable underwear with cross back straps, sturdy lace around her hips and under her chest adding sexiness to the simple cut.

“The bra doesn’t hug your chest snuggly; the cut isn’t suited for your body type.” Sai idly comments. Over his lap, there is the latest number of _Vogue_ and Ino wonders where he found the damn thing.

Back inside, Ino digs through her armory. Another classic cut but the lace bodysuit adds a risky twist. The black lingerie is pretty, a little fragile like but somewhat holding a darker promise.

“How about this one?”

Sai tilts his head to the side. “I thought you needed a bra.”

“You can’t expect me to wear a mismatched set, Sai, its either go big or go home.”

The young man sighs and his eyes sweep over her, critically, judging but not one ounce of what Ino wants is shown in his expression. “It seems uncomfortable for everyday use. How will you use the bathroom with a one-piece?”

With a slight tick, unnoticeable under her bright smile, Ino closes the curtain. Something fancy and kinky, yet, comfy and useful. This one is black and half-see-through with gorgeous roses-vines climbing through her body. Thanks to the sheer material the roses seem like they are tattooed on her body.

This should work! Ino thinks as she swings the curtain open.

Sai is in the middle of turning a page as he freezes. He does a double take, his eyes are especially glued to the roses and vines detail. “Thin materials are easy to damage, I would advise something more durable.”

“Smart ass.” Ino bites as she swings the curtain shut.  She’d swear she almost had a reaction from him!

Something dark with lace and has a thin line between classic and scandalous. Elegant and naughty, the dark lavender set has many twists, straps and laces.

“Is this better?” she cocks her hip for good measure, cherry-red lips curled seductively.

“Unnecessarily complicated.”

This time Ino picks something more classic, retro like rose-pearl satin set with cute little black bows.

Sai doesn’t even comment on it, just raises one brow in a bored manner.

Thankfully the curtain can’t be slammed shut like wooden doors. Sporty didn’t work, and so the kinkier ones, so, maybe something pretty? In her changing room, Ino pulls something cute, delicate and sheer in soft pastel colors. It’s rather innocent and pure, covering more skin than it should but Ino takes the shot.

“This one?” Ino asks sweetly. Feeling her role, she shyly tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “How do I look?”

“Stunning, but you don’t need fancy lingerie for that,” Sai says, casually as if one speaks of the weather.  Ino is the stunned one, the compliment has left his lips so easily and he actually _means_ _it_.

Without a word, Ino hides behind her curtain with the excuse of trying another set. She feels her cheeks slowly grow warm and silently throws a tantrum in her confined space. Ino will not be defeated in her own game!

Her last piece has the most details of delicate colorful tiny flowers. The material is thin and soft with a skirt like a garter belt and a mix-match of pink and blue.

She steps out, doing a little twirl and giggling like a school girl, “Better?”

No matter what she tried on or how she posed, the damn tattooist didn't react. No blushing, no fidgeting, no stammering. Like seeing Ino in sexy lingerie wasn't fazing him!

The last drop is when he, in a bored tone asks, “Have you decided, Ino?”

“None of them,” Ino says hotly. Defeat tastes bitter in her mouth. She won't wear a bra-panty match that has no effect on the opposite sex. “I'll wear the one you liked best and seeing how you didn't react to a single one of them, I won't buy any.”

Suddenly, Sai is in front of her. She barely has time to blink as the young man corners her to the wall. Ever so slowly, his left-hand settles on her hip, cold and big, his fingers seem to burn through the thin fabric.

Ino’s heart is ramming in her ribcage as Sai’s other hand takes hold of her chin, his thumb brushes her lower lip. Her eyes are taken hostage by his dark eyes. Like pools of ink, devouring light in their intensity, he leans closer and Ino can taste his breath and her lips involuntarily opens.

Closer and closer he gets, the hand on her hip slides on her lower back and pulls her flush to his hard chest. Sai tilts his head, his expression is blank but his eyes are heavy with _something_ burning behind the irises.

“Sai?” her voice comes out raspier and needier than she’d admit.

The young man’s lips curl slightly, tempting and mouth-watering. Should Ino want, she could close the gap and get herself a kiss and be ravished in the dressing room of an expensive lingerie shop, however, Sai doesn’t go for her lips.

He dips his face to her slender neck, the cold fingers on her chin moving  her face away to give himself space and Ino can swear she forget to breathe when she feels Sai leave a small peck.

“What you wear is meaningless,” Sai whispers into the shell of her ear. His lips are cold and brush her sensitive ears as they move. “After all, at the end of the night, the lingerie will be nothing but ripped cloth on the floor of my bedroom.”

Ino does not blush, nor does she choke on thin air. When Sai backs of there is a taunting smirk curving his lips and Ino grudging admits that the jerk has won this round.

Sai, dear, you just summoned the inner bitch who doesn’t like to play _nice_. You will eat those words, one day, Ino swears, she is going to make him _beg_!

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a review on your way out!


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